


Latrodectus Elegans

by justheretoreadhannibalfics



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Black Widower Hannibal, Child In Danger, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal has been married before, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal is a dad, Hannibal is a serial killer, Justice Is Served, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Illness, Original Character Child, Reveal, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is good with kids, but he's also a bad influence, child is harmed, so don't worry too much, though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 68,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25986313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics
Summary: It's weird to see a kid in Quantico. Even more strange is for them to be so, creepily well behaved, and trailing behind a renowned psychiatrist.Will is curious, despite himself. The fact that both the child and the psychiatrist return that curiosity could spell danger for him.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 563
Kudos: 1180





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stellar_Infires](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellar_Infires/gifts).



The man walked about as if everything was perfectly normal, not considering the child that followed so near him to be unusual. Will could see the resemblance, and knew it could only be his son, but it was odd to see any children in Quantico. It would have been odd to see this particular child anywhere. He was  _ unnaturally _ well behaved.

His sandy hair was perfectly combed, almost identically to his father’s. Will realized it might not be so odd for him to be so well behaved, seeing how impeccably well dressed and put together the father seemed. 

Jack had introduced him as Doctor Lecter, and Will couldn’t quite place his accent. It was European, he thought. The young boy hadn’t said a word aside from a polite hello, so Will didn’t know if he shared that with his father as well.

“I’m sorry, Doctor Lecter,” Jack said, finally giving in to his insatiable curiosity and foregoing his usual politeness, “but why have you brought your son with you today? Do you not have someone to watch him, or does he not go to school?”

Doctor Lecter didn’t look offended at the inquisition, but he did frown slightly.

“I apologize, Jack. Today has been taken for the teachers at his school to prepare and train. His usual companion has taken to a fantasy and run off to Florida. I’m afraid he must remain with me today.”

The boy only nodded at his father’s words, looking at Jack as if they were equals, rather than an adult and a child. His sharp eyes, green rather than maroon to match his father’s, looked as if they were wise beyond their years, and Will felt more than a little unsure of how to feel about that.

“His mom doesn’t stay at home?” Will asked, trying to initiate in small talk, but knowing it was not his forte.

Jack’s eyes grew wide at his question, and Will knew immediately that he had made a mistake.

Doctor Lecter only smiled lightly. It was a polite thing, likely too often used because of people like Will.

“His mother died only months after his birth,” he explained calmly, “but we make do, do we not?”

At being addressed, the boy lifted his head to nod curtly at his father. Will got the feeling the word “dad” didn’t really apply.

“We do,” the boy said.

He did not share the accent with his father, at least not fully. His words were still smooth and practiced, but not as round as the Doctor’s.

“I’m sorry,” Will said, ducking his head to stare into his mug of coffee, “I’m not very sociable.”

Doctor Lecter hummed in agreement. 

“I imagine it has something to do with the fact that you fill your head with the tasteless acts of these killers,” he replied, nodding to a picture of one of the bodies they had found.

Will tried not to grimace, but the look Jack gave him let him know he didn’t quite succeed.

“My thoughts are often not tasty,” he said, his words changing to reflect the man’s, “but I make do.”

The smile Doctor Lecter gave him was more real, then. He was not just being polite with the curl of his lip, and he raised an eyebrow. He was amused.

“Nor are mine. I have met a fair few monsters in my profession. It’s rare to find a mind unblemished these days.”

Will wished that wasn’t true, but he knew better than to argue. He knew there was too much evil in the world to expect anyone to make it to adulthood without seeing their fair share. If anyone did, they would be mocked for their naivete. 

“With as many monsters as I see, I’m tempted to say it’s rare to find anyone who doesn’t have some evil inside them.”

That seemed to be even more amusing to the Doctor, who nodded along with his smile this time.

“What can you tell of this killer so far?” he asked, turning to fully face Will and tilting his head curiously.

Will pointedly glanced at the boy, who was mimicking his father’s actions with eerie accuracy. The Doctor pressed his lips together, seeming both amused and annoyed.

“Mykolas, perhaps you should retire to the waiting area with your book,” doctor Lecter said, seeming to produce a novel out of thin air and handing it to the boy who seemed far too young to be reading such a book.

The boy seemed disappointed and a bit offended at the idea that he was not mature enough for the conversation, but he nodded and accepted the task from his father. He walked stiffly out the door to where a few chairs waited for him in the hall. It was an area that gave the same impression as the chairs outside a principal’s office. Will didn’t envy him.

“Sorry. I just don’t want to be the one who puts a blemish on  _ his _ mind,” Will explained, standing and walking over to the pictures.

He didn’t need to look at them again. He already had them seared into his mind, but he felt like he had to move around. The man’s gaze made him fidgety.

“I thank you for taking my son’s mind into consideration,” Doctor Lecter answered calmly, “but please, tell me what you see.”

Will pressed his lips together as he looked over the pictures. There were three bodies that had been found, and each had a peculiar scene made around them. They had all been killed with a single bullet to the heart. They had each been displayed with their hands and wrists nailed to a piece of wood, like they had been crucified. The peculiar thing was their faces.

The woman was missing her tongue, and her throat had been torn out to do it, leaving her jaw nearly dangling from the tendons and gaping. The first man had his eyes removed, just as brutally, leaving shredded, gaping holes where they used to be. The last man had his ears removed, and the killer had even gone so far as to dig into the skull partially to remove every bit of the man’s hearing organs. 

See no evil. Speak no evil. Hear no evil.

Will wasn’t sure yet why each of these people had been assigned their trait, but he knew it was part of the design. 

What he was most horrified by was that he knew the killer wasn’t done. If he had been trying to send  _ this _ message, then three would be the end. The killer had no intention of letting it lie. They would continue to do this. 

Will worried what he would see next.

“Mizaru, Kikazaru, and Iwazaru,” Will told the Doctor.

Doctor Lecter nodded in consideration. 

“Do you think this killer is punishing these individuals for a perceived evil?” he asked in return.

Will nodded. He was glad the Doctor had understood what he meant. He hated it when he ended up having to explain things to people, but he wasn’t a very good judge of what other people would or would not know already. He ended up expecting most people to just know what he did, and that made him give a fair amount of explanations.

“What?” Jack asked, and Will was secretly relieved when Doctor Lecter turned to explain.

Will kept his mind on the task at hand. He couldn’t focus on Jack learning what he meant. 

This killer was going to continue killing, but Will didn’t know what the pattern was going to be from here on. This had a purpose, but what would carry him through the next one? What justification would he give for the next round of bodies?

“So, if he was going off those three things, is this it?” Jack asked, his tone more demanding than Will really thought was necessary.

“No,” Will replied, not turning to them, “He’s going to keep going. He is just going to find something else to use as justification. He thinks these people have sinned, or were evil. He’s going to keep exacting justice on people until he’s stopped. I just can’t figure out what his next round is going to be.”

Doctor Lecter walked up beside Will to look at the pictures with him, and Will could feel his curiosity radiating off him.

“Might he simply reconstruct these?” he asked, “punishing others for these same sins?”

Will shook his head.

“No. He thinks these were the epitome of their chosen evil. They are the exemplars of their area. He won’t find anyone else as guilty of these as they. He might go to the seven sins, or the ten commandments, or something else next. I just don’t know.”

Doctor Lecter hummed in consideration. He seemed to be humoring Will in some fashion. Will wasn’t sure why, but it felt like the man knew more than he was letting on. He was smarter than he was telling them, and it was starting to irritate Will.

“What do you think, Doctor Lecter?” Will asked, trying not to sound annoyed. 

Doctor Lecter straightened his spine and tipped his head.

“I think you are right. I agree with everything you have said. You have a unique talent for this. I would venture to say you have an abnormal amount of empathy, and you find yourself able to understand anyone. That must frighten you at times.”

Will felt like he had set himself up for that, but he still hated Lecter for it. He hated people getting into his head. He didn’t like psychiatrists, because they always tried.

“It frightens others more than me,” Will snapped, “and you would do well to keep out of my head, thank you. I have classes to prepare. Call me if you find anything, Jack.”

Will headed out, feeling only slightly guilty for storming the way he was. He just didn’t want to spend one more minute in the same room as that psychiatrist.

Will stopped, just outside the door of Jack’s office, to steady his breathing and gather his thoughts. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t poke him like that, Doctor,” 

“I think I can help you, Jack.”

Will took a deep breath, wishing he hadn’t heard that bit of the conversation. They should really do something about the door being so thin. Surely that was a problem for the head of the department.

Mykolas was sitting, facing Will. He had his book open on his lap, and his posture was perfect. It was a bit unnerving to see.

The boy raised his head and passed his eyes over Will, who was still standing with his back to the door. 

“Father thinks you are interesting,” he stated.

Will blanched. 

What the _hell_?

“What?” he managed, trying not to swear in front of the kid. He had to only be about eight. Twelve at most.

“My father wants to talk to you more. He thinks you are smart and interesting. He likes you,” the boy continued, turning his eyes back down to his book.

Will glanced back at the door, taking a step away so he couldn’t make out any more of the words they exchanged.

“How do you figure that?” Will asked, now too curious for his own good.

Mykolas furrowed his brow.

“It is obvious,” he said, “Father smiled when you spoke, and he thinks it was very nice of you to ask me to leave. Most people expect him to decide when it is appropriate for me to be around. He thinks it’s rude of them to assume he knows what they are going to discuss. Adults see me as his property, and don’t pay attention to me. He likes that you did. He also asked you to tell him what you thought before he told Agent Crawford what he thinks. He knows you are smart.”

Will was surprised. Mykolas had a very good understanding of his father. Not many kids could explain their parents that well, much less that articulately. Will couldn’t remember ever meeting a child that could explain what their parent’s actions meant that well. 

“Well,” Will said, feeling a bit at a loss, “thank you, I suppose. That was educational. What are you reading?”

Will had always been better at talking to kids than with other adults, and he didn’t really have to prepare anything for his classes. He had just wanted to get away from the prodding minds.

Mykolas lifted his book so Will could see the cover.

“Hamlet,” he said.

The boy had a peculiarly even tone, but Will could detect a hint of pride as he related the title. He knew he was reading something of a higher level than his age.

“That’s a good one,” Will said, taking a seat a few chairs away, “do you like Shakespeare?”

Mykolas smiled, finally looking like a normal child. Will realized he had probably been trying to impress he and Jack by acting so much like his father.

“He was very smart,” Mykolas said, “and he was very good at writing. I really like the soliloquies Hamlet has.”

Will nodded, feeling a real smile pulling at his own lips now. 

“I bet you like to read a lot,” Will said, “have you read any of his other plays?”

Mykolas closed the book, apparently deciding conversation was more interesting at the moment.

“I’ve read a few. Father says there are a couple he wants me to wait to read. He says Hamlet is safe enough for me. I’ve read some of his sonnets, though.”

Mykolas was looking more normal the more he spoke. That was how to see who people really were. Get them to talk about something they cared about. It was so much easier with kids. They cared a lot, and loved to talk. Even this child, as odd as anything, was excited to have an adult show interest in their interests.

“At least your dad knows to keep you away from some of the plays,” Will laughed, “wouldn’t want you growing up too fast.”

Mykolas shrugged, seeming to have the same attitude as most children. He wanted to grow up faster.

“You can call me Myko,” he said, “I think we are going to be seeing each other more often.”

Will laughed in surprise, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Because you think your dad wants to talk to me more?” he asked.

Mykolas nodded.

“Well, tell your dad that if he wants to see me around more, he has to buy me dinner first at least,” Will joked.

Mykolas grinned.

“He’ll do you one better.”

Will was about to ask what the hell that meant, when the door to the office opened and he shot to his feet. He hadn’t realized he had stayed so long. 

Doctor Lecter stepped through the door first, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Will and his son. Will felt his heart beat faster with anxiety as he saw the questioning look. He did not want to have to answer any of the psychiatrist’s questions.

Will turned to Mykolas and gave him a curt nod.

“See you around, Myko,” Will said quickly, before basically sprinting down the hall.

Will told himself he didn’t want to hear what was said as he left, but he was lying.

“Mykolas. How on earth-?”

“Father, I play a different game than you.”


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating a day early in order to show you all that you are appreciated on Fannibal appreciation day. Congrats. I hope you enjoy the story.

Will didn’t like leaving town to consult for Jack, but when the next body showed up, there was no arguing his point. 

So here he was, in a cheap motel, trying to get as much sleep as he could before Jack decided to drag him out to a crime scene. He could smell the remnants of cigarette smoke from a previous occupant. The air was muggy and warm. He wished it was cold so the air might leach some of the heat from his skin.

A knock at the door, and Will rolled onto his feet. He trudged over to open it and found the tall Doctor Lecter in the light rather than who he had expected.

“Good morning. May I come in?” Lecter asked.

Will only stared at him, trying to figure out why the hell he was here. 

“Did Jack tell you to come?” Will asked, glancing around to see if Jack was nearby.

“No. I asked to have the privilege to invite you out this morning. May I come in?” 

Will got the feeling Lecter was being very patient with him, like he would be to a child. He nodded and stepped back to let him in. 

Doctor Lecter walked over to the table and began unpacking a bag Will hadn’t noticed. He was pulling out Tupperware containers, and Will was having a hard time processing what was going on. 

“You have made quite an impression on my son,” Doctor Lecter said, setting the table with a flourish and gesturing for Will to sit.

Will sank into the chair across from him and stared at the container of food in front of him.

“He’s a smart kid,” he said, shrugging, “He’s going to go places.”

Lecter bowed his head in acknowledgement and smiled lightly.

“Thank you. This is a simple protein scramble,” he said, gesturing to the dishes, “I am very particular about what I put in my body, so I end up making most of my meals myself. It may not be the promised dinner, but I believe there is still time for that.”

Will frowned.

“Promised dinner?” he asked.

The smile on Doctor Lecter’s face grew distant and fond.

“Mykolas informed me that you gave him a condition if we were to see you more often. He said you requested I take you to dinner.”

Will hadn’t realized Mykolas would have told his dad about  _ everything _ they said. He realized it would have been stupid to think he wouldn’t. He felt his face grow warm and he ducked his head to look at the dish of food.

“I hadn’t thought you would take that seriously,” he admitted, poking at his food with a fork, “if Myko thought to tell you at all.”

Doctor Lecter tipped his head and watched Will curiously. 

“My son and I have very few secrets between us, I think you will find,” he said, “but I was pleased to hear you and he get along so well. It is a rare thing.”

Will nodded, chewing a bite of food so he didn’t have to speak. Kids were one thing he understood how to deal with other than dogs, and they were less judgmental than adults. He could speak fairly freely with them, and he knew how to let them speak freely in return. He had resolved to never be the negative adult presence in any child’s life, so he worked hard to be kind to them. 

“You are welcome to call me Hannibal,” Doctor Lecter said, lifting his own bite onto his fork, “since you are already so friendly with my son. He does not often request to be called by a shortened version of his name.”

Will swallowed and glanced up at the man. His facial features were sharp like they had been sculpted from marble. His sandy colored hair was the exact same shade as Mykolas’, but his eyes were maroon. Will had noticed it the first time they met, but it was still odd. He hadn’t ever met anyone with maroon eyes before. Or, if he had, he had been much better at avoiding eye contact with them.

“I’m sorry, again, for bringing up his mom. I know it must be a sensitive subject. Like I said, I’m not good at being sociable. I’m not typically very good company.”

Hannibal looked up at him, and the edges of his eyes crinkled in more of a smile than his mouth ever seemed to show.

“My son disagrees. If one can converse so well with Mykolas, I consider them worthy company. As for the comment, it is nothing I am not used to. My past in regard to marriage is something that stirs up plenty of gossip and questions.”

Well, now Will was really curious. He felt like he was being made fun of, having Doctor Lecter say things that would make him want to ask more questions. He would either have to find out about it from someone else, or seem rude for asking him right out. Both options were rude, actually. 

“Well, that’s one thing we have in common,” Will said, trying not to overthink everything. He just wanted to have a normal conversation for once in his life.

Hannibal’s eyes seemed to sparkle when he looked at Will.

“Our past in regards to marriage?” he asked, and he was definitely making fun of Will, then. 

Will shook his head.

“Something about us tends to stir up gossip,” he corrected, choosing not to take the bait. The thing about being a good fisherman was that it made him a wary fish.

Hannibal hummed in consideration. 

“You have a talent for the monsters,” Hannibal said, and Will knew he was reciting something Jack had told him, “I presume it is a topic of conversation among those who know you, and those who only know of you.”

Will nodded. Jack probably wanted Hannibal to help him figure out whether or not Will was stable enough to work in the field. Will knew nothing would stop Jack from getting him to the field, but if Hannibal thought he was unstable, it would slow him down and annoy him.

“If anyone hears about me before I meet them, one of the first questions is how I can get into the heads of these killers,” Will agreed, looking at the window and wishing it wasn’t such dirty, foggy glass, “or they think they already know, and just want to get me under their microscope so they can prove it to everyone else.”

There was something about this whole situation that made Will more open to talking frankly with Hannibal. It might have been how he didn’t seem to be judging Will for what he said or how he acted. He might have felt obligated to try to get along with him, if only because he liked Myko at least a bit. It might have been the fact that the man had actively shown up with food he had made, and was now pouring Will another cup of what had to be the fanciest coffee he had ever tasted.

“You do not meet anyone who has heard of you, but still want nothing more than to be friendly?” Hannibal asked.

Will wet his lips and took another sip of his coffee. The demeanor of the man across from him was something very peculiar to Will. He didn’t seem to be  _ trying _ to make Will comfortable, but he didn’t make Will nervous, as most people did. He wasn’t as intent on digging into Will’s head as most people. It was both unnerving and somewhat comforting.

“Not often,” he said warily, “and when I do, they usually get scared away pretty quick. I told you before. I can understand anyone, and it scares others more than it scares me. For them, it’s like they stepped into the house of someone with telepathy. I make people uncomfortable.”

Hannibal considered this, taking a bite of his own food and chewing it slowly. 

“You do not make Mykolas uncomfortable,” he noted, “And I have yet to feel frightened by your ability to understand me.”

Will shrugged.

“Kids aren’t as suspicious as adults,” he said, “and I haven’t said anything about you that should have frightened you.”

Hannibal smiled. It was odd that he always seemed to smile right when others would be telling Will never to talk to them again. He seemed amused by everything, which was sort of nice. At least he wasn’t offended.

“I would presume you have thought of some things you could have said about me that most would be frightened by,” he said, “and I am terribly curious about what you might be able to see.”

Will frowned. 

“Most people don’t really like to hear what I have to say,” he said cautiously, “and I kinda didn’t want to scare you away. At least not this quickly. I think Jack wants us to work together for a while.”

Hannibal smiled and nodded.

“Indeed he does, but I am still curious. I promise not to be offended by anything you see. I am very good at keeping my promises.”

Will naturally doubted that. He had heard similar things from many people before, but he was more inclined to believe the doctor than anyone else who had said it. 

“Alright, well, you’re European, that’s obvious. I can’t quite place the accent. You’re a pretty good dad, encouraging your kid to embrace his curiosity and natural inclinations. He likes you well enough, which is a good sign. You must be very honest with him, as you said, because he can read you better than probably anyone else can. It’s not often I find someone who can read anyone better than me. I can read and understand almost anyone.”

Hannibal nodded again, considering Will’s words.

“Very adept analysis, though I am convinced you are still holding out. I’m pleased to hear you think so highly of me, from just that short interaction you had with Mykolas. I’m curious about what he might have said to convince you he can read my mannerisms so well.”

“I thought he would have told you,” Will said, feeling embarrassed now, “I mean. You keep saying how you don’t keep secrets, and he told you about the rest of our conversation.”

“Ah. I see,” Hannibal said, “Well, Mykolas told me everything you said to him, but he likely left out some parts where he felt he may have crossed a line with me. He is peculiar that way.”

Will nodded. If there was a word to describe either Myko or his father, it was certainly peculiar. He wasn’t sure if he should tell Hannibal what Myko had said, but he supposed it would be weird for him to keep a secret from the boy’s father.

“He said you think I’m interesting,” Will divulged, “and that you thought it was considerate of me to ask for him to leave the room. He said you think I’m smart, since you asked for my thoughts before telling Jack yours.”

Hannibal nodded to each of his points, as if they were things any child should be able to tell about their parent from nothing more than the tilt of their head or the curve of their lips. 

“Mykolas has come to learn my mannerisms, by way of simple explanations. He has natural curiosity, and has always been able to pick up on the slight changes of my demeanor. When he asks what something means, or what I was thinking when acting, I tell him as plainly and honestly as I can. I see no reason to keep that from him.”

Will shrugged. He knew it was very unusual to have that kind of candid understanding between parent and child. Most parents, at least a part of the time, would tell their child not to worry about it, or to mind their own business. It was probably very beneficial to their relationship that Hannibal was so honest with his son, but Will knew it was far from ordinary.

“Most parents keep plenty from their kids,” he said flatly.

Hannibal studied Will for a moment. Will felt like the man was stripping his flesh away and staring at his still beating heart. He didn’t really like it, but it was refreshingly different from how other people tended to look at him.

“You were never left ignorant as a child, were you,” Hannibal said, less of a question and more of an observation.

Will grimaced and grumbled softly. Not really wanting to have that typical psychiatrist conversation.

“So, Jack asked you to come consult on whether or not I’m mentally stable, and you go right for the low hanging fruit,” he chided, “I expected more of you. Asking about my  _ childhood _ ?”

Hannibal huffed a soft laugh, seeming a bit surprised by Will’s response. His eyes flicked over Will again before he answered.

“I apologize,” he said, though he sounded pleased, “I suppose it is in my nature to observe, much as it is in yours. My curiosity about others has aided me in my career to this point. It has become somewhat of a habit to ask uncomfortable questions.”

Will raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not a habit, don’t try to fool me. You are curious about me, like Myko said. Thing about me, I’m a human lie detector, and mine isn’t a habit or a choice. It’s a curse. You wanted to ask, to get me to talk about myself. You think you have some insight into how I work, and you wanted me to either confirm or deny without knowing I was doing it. Not to be rude, but don’t psychoanalyze me, and don’t patronize me either.”

Despite Will’s gruff tone and less than polite words, Hannibal seemed oddly pleased and amused.

“You have perfect empathy. I want you to be aware that I have told Jack I will not be his personal informant. I am not interested in betraying your trust just to please him. If you choose to have your evaluation from me, I will provide it, but I will not tell him anything unless you give me clearance to. I find it distasteful to share the private information of others.”

Will allowed himself to study Hannibal now. He felt like it wouldn’t be taken as rude since the other man took the time to study him frequently. Hannibal didn’t seem like the kind of person to go gossiping behind anyone’s back, certainly. Will felt like Hannibal was probably being honest with what he was saying, but that didn’t make him feel much more comfortable with talking to him.

“I thought I said not to psychoanalyze me,” he said, though it lacked venom, “I don’t really like psychiatrists.”

Hannibal hummed in agreement.

“I will agree not to patronize you, but I cannot promise to refrain from psychoanalysis. It truly is in my nature, and I admit you are fascinating. You seem to be agreeable with children, but abrasive and deflective when speaking with your fellow adults. This is not as uncommon as you might think, but it’s clear it does not stem from lack of understanding on your part. You can likely understand the thoughts and motivations of anyone you choose. Perhaps the problem is that others do not extend that same courtesy to you. You would be more comfortable if others would make an attempt to understand than to simply brush you off as strange.”

Well, that was just great. Without even meaning to, Will was well into a conversation with a psychiatrist. On top of that already regrettable situation, the psychiatrist was actually figuring some things out about him. 

“Are you trying to provoke me, so I return the favor of analysis?” Will snapped, “because I can. If that’s what you’re trying to do, I can certainly push back.”

Will made firm eye contact with Hannibal, who seemed more excited than frightened at the prospect. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his head tilted just the slightest amount. 

“I would be very pleased to hear what you might find,” Hannibal said.

Will scowled, feeling inexplicably like he was being used. He closed his eyes and played over everything he had seen or heard Hannibal do so far. Everything he knew about the man flashed behind his eyelids.

“Lithuania,” he stated, “That’s where you’re from. You’ve been all around Europe, though, living in France and Italy both for a time. You draw, you play instruments, one of them is probably a harpsichord, you cook, and you used to be a medical doctor. Emergency room surgeon, I think. You’ve been married before, maybe multiple times, but you’ve never been divorced. Accidents, I guess, have taken your spouses from you, or else illness. You don’t wear a wedding ring from your deceased wife. You think you might marry again.”

Will opened his eyes and was met by an actual smile from Hannibal. 

That was not how most people reacted.


	3. 3

“Would you like me to inform you of what about all that is correct?” Hannibal asked, seeming terribly pleased.

It was frustrating Will beyond his ability to explain. He shoved the last of his food into his mouth, noting the displeased twitch of Hannibal’s lips as he did.

“We probably need to be going,” he said instead of answering right away, “you know where we’re needed?”

Will stood up and pulled some clothes from his suitcase, feeling like an idiot for having wasted time talking to this guy. He didn’t even like talking to people.

“I am aware of the location of the most recent body, yes,” Hannibal agreed, carefully packing his dishes back up, “and I will be driving us both there once you are prepared. That was not, however, an answer to my question.”

Will huffed and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t need you to confirm or deny anything,” he said, “I don’t really care. I don’t find you that interesting.”

He made his way to the shower and quickly scrubbed the dried sweat off his skin so they could set out for the day.

\---

“What unit might the killer be using to measure the worth of souls now?” Hannibal asked.

Will stared at the body, nearly trembling with energy. 

“I was right before,” he said, his voice soft and barely audible, “He’s on to the seven now.”

Luckily, Hannibal seemed to hear and understand his words, nodding silently and giving Will some space as he processed what he was seeing.

The man had his heart removed, a terribly messy ordeal. His chest was gaping open and the edges of the hole were torn and jagged. The ribs had been sawed through and placed back after the heart was removed, though with little care. They lay in the cavity, seeming as if they no longer belonged there. The man’s neck had been broken, and his head had been bowed down to his chest in an unnaturally low angle. He was kneeling, with his hands bound together in prayer before him.

This man had been guilty of an excess of pride. At least in the killer’s eyes. 

Will managed to tear himself away after a moment, turning sharply and blinking the images away. He accidentally bumped right into Hannibal and nearly fell over from the impact. Hannibal gripped Will’s shoulders and steadied him, seeming concerned, but still annoyingly curious.

“Are you alright, Will?” he asked.

Will shook his head, not disagreeing, but trying to get the images out of his head.

“I’m fine, or I will be once I’m away from here. Where’s Jack?”

Hannibal nodded, releasing his grip on Will and turning to scan the scene. He set eyes on Jack immediately and steered Will towards him with a gentle grip on his arm. Will usually buzzed with painful energy when others touched him, but Hannibal didn’t elicit that response for some reason. It was like he didn’t have the same kind of physical presence as other people, or that he was the one person Will wasn’t allergic to. It was weird, and made Will simultaneously want to yank his arm away, and find out why it was happening.

“Will,” Jack said gruffly, in a bad mood as always, and that being exacerbated by the dead body, “What do you have?”

Will cleared his throat, knowing his eyes were jumping about like he was about to make a break for it. 

“He’s moved on to the seven deadly sins,” Will repeated, “This is Pride. If you look into this guy’s past, he will be someone who has a lot of pride. Enough that the killer thinks it was too much. So we can expect six more bodies in this fashion. The last set were crucified. It looks like this set is going to be praying. That’s his new signature. Keep an eye out for it.”

Jack was glowering, but not at Will. He stared over Will’s shoulder at the body, seeming to expect it to burst into flames at any moment. It was his habit, Will had learned, to direct all of his feelings towards the bodies. Once they had a suspect, or they found the killer, he would redirect it all to them. It was nice to not be the subject of his ire, but Will knew there were still ways he might accidentally change that. He had to tread carefully when Jack was upset, which was often.

“Does the killer think he’s perfect?” Jack asked, “does he think he’s clean?”

Will shook his head, glancing at Hannibal, who seemed equally curious to hear his response. Will wanted to chock it up to morbid curiosity about the killings, but he knew it was something more. It was something that made Will slightly uncomfortable.

“He knows he’s flawed, and unclean. He despises himself for it, but these people are worse, in his mind. They are the highest form of sin, and he wants to remove them from the world. He might even blame them for his own flaws.”

Hannibal hummed in agreement.

“He recognizes his own imperfections, which causes him to punish others for what he considers to be a greater flaw than his own,” he mused aloud, “He may be influenced to become self-destructive if he is shown to be more deeply flawed than he currently thinks.”

Will closed his eyes, thinking. That was a good idea. They would have to do it nearly perfectly, though. If they were off by only a margin, the killer could act unpredictably.

“Freddie Lounds,” Will said.

Both Jack and Hannibal watched him curiously, waiting for an explanation.

“We need to talk to Lounds,” Will explained, “We need to get her to write about him, but she has to portray him as the epitome of wrath. It’s one of this set, and it would be the easiest to prove. She is the only one with the influence to really get him to believe it, if she does it right.”

Jack pressed his lips together, unhappy. 

Will felt a headache coming on, and he winced slightly at the sharp pain behind his eyes.

“She’ll want to talk to you,” Jack warned. 

Will nodded, rubbing his eyes and sighing. There was one thing he had learned about Freddie Lounds over his years as both an officer and a consultant. Freddie Lounds was interested in revealing whatever she could find out about him to anyone who would listen. Due to his reputation among psychiatric circles, there was quite a market for it.

“I know that,” he conceded, “but we really need to get this guy. I can deal with her if I have to. We do not suggest it, but if she asks to talk to me, I’ll do it.”

Jack was not pleased, but he knew Will had a point. There were very few times Will wasn’t right when he said something like this. Even less when he really didn’t want to say it.

“Do you think you can be careful about what you say to her?” he asked, clearly doubtful.

Will offered a wry smile.

“I won’t leak anything about the case I shouldn’t,” he said.

Jack scowled.

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.”

Will sighed, nodding.

“I know.”

\---

“Would you like me to accompany you to the interview with Miss Lounds?” Hannibal asked.

Will looked over to Hannibal. The man kept his eyes studiously trained on the road in front of them as he drove them back to the motel.

“Why? To be the voice of reason if I might say something Jack won’t like?” Will asked, not having the energy to sound angry. 

Will turned and looked back out the window at the buildings that passed by. It would probably make Jack happy if he could have someone there to babysit Will. Will had a tendency to be overly snippy with Freddie, and she had a tendency to use that against him.

“I trust you to speak for yourself.”

That startled Will into looking back over at his companion, frowning slightly. He racked his mind for anything he could quantify that statement to, but he came up empty. No one had ever said that to him. He was generally not trusted to speak for himself, by his peers, superiors, or anyone who knew him. He knew he deserved it, because he had a reputation for being abrasive and rude. 

Then, why had Hannibal said it?

He waited for Hannibal to continue.

“I would only act as a buffer for you, to keep Miss Lounds from overstepping. I understand her curiosity about you may cause her to be uncouth towards you. People have a tendency to refrain from rudeness in my presence, and especially after I request it. I thought it may be beneficial to you if I were to be there, if only for that reason.”

Will honestly didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t expected Hannibal’s reasoning to be so… urbane. It felt like the man really did just want to be helpful, but Will knew he likely also wanted to gain some insight by having the opportunity to observe Will in such a circumstance.

“I’ll think about it.”

Hannibal seemed satisfied with that, and Will almost felt guilty for suspecting him of ulterior motives. It was too bad he had to suspect everyone, but he knew from experience that few people really deserved to be trusted, especially when they seemed to be too nice.

\---

“I’d like you to get an eval,” Jack stated.

Will nodded. He had expected as much, after his attempt to have it done without Will’s knowledge had fallen through. The next expected step was for Jack to ask right out, or threaten him to do it. Will had yet to see which one it was at the moment.

“I don’t like psychiatrists, Jack,” Will reminded, a warning without being an actual answer, “and you are going to have me consult whether I do it or not. Why would you tempt fate?”

Jack didn’t seem surprised as he sighed. Mostly just resigned and generally unhappy. None of that was unusual or terribly concerning.

“It’s more for my peace of mind, and a buffer in the future,” Jack explained, “I want to be sure that you aren’t going to break on the job, and I want to have that reassurance in the event of the higher ups questioning my decision.”

Will huffed, but nodded.

Jack usually got what he wanted, but that didn’t mean he never got in trouble. Will had consulted with him before, and after a particularly colorful article by Freddie Lounds, he had been politely told Jack would no longer be needing his assistance. Jack was fortifying his decision this time, so he would have references in case anyone wanted to bother him about it this time.

“So, I guess this is where you tell me to choose between Bloom or Lecter?” Will asked, making sure Jack was aware he wasn’t particularly pleased at the prospect, but wasn’t going to argue.

Jack shrugged.

“Doctor Bloom knows you too well. I would prefer Lecter,” he replied, “but, of course, it is your decision ultimately.”

Alana knew him too well, and knew his mental state too well. She was concerned about what the work would do to him, and would be hard to talk into clearing him. It would be easier for him to convince Doctor Lecter that he was mentally stable enough to work. Jack would never say that aloud, but Will knew it was what he was considering when he made the suggestion.

“Then Doctor Lecter it is,” Will said, “but just an eval. I don’t need a psychiatrist getting involved in my personal affairs.”

Jack smiled as they both headed out of the office and into the halls of Quantico. Will knew he would have clapped him on the shoulder if Will hadn’t expressed his discomfort with physical contact years before. Jack had taken a while to adapt to not touching someone he saw as part of the team, but he was good at it now. He remembered more than even Alana did. Alana probably wanted to cross Will’s boundaries and make him comfortable with her. She apologized whenever Will flinched away from her touch.

“That’s all I need. Get the eval, and then avoid shrinks like the plague as usual. It’ll settle my mind, and make everything easier going forward for both of us. I want you in the saddle, but you have to be wearing your riding boots.”

Will wasn’t sure that was the most adept metaphor, but he knew what Jack wanted. He wanted to give the illusion of following all the rules. Jack followed whatever rules he liked, but the ones he didn’t, he cleverly sidestepped when he could manage. 

Being someone who rarely gave the rules much thought unless he would get arrested for not following them, Will didn’t argue with him about it. 

\---

Will wrote out a detailed description of what Freddie would have to write in order to effectively bait the killer. 

He hated the idea of working with her, and had to take periodic breaks to cool off. He would take the dogs on a walk, or make some more coffee, or work on a fishing lure. Every now and then, he had to rewrite an entire section of the outline because he had grown too angry while writing.

It was a tedious process, and made him feel a bit sympathetic towards his students. 

Not enough for him to go easier on them, though. 

When it was perfect, and had been torn to shreds and reassembled more than once, Will sent it to Jack. Jack would then make a compilation of information they could use to bribe Freddie with, and put it all together so they could approach her with the offer.

Will hoped she would be satisfied with the inside scoop, and not ask for an interview with him, but he knew it was pointless. She had been after his story since he joined the FBI. The fact that he was hard to find information on had only motivated her more to be the one person who could get at him.

There had even been times where it had bordered on stalking, and Will had considered getting a restraining order, but she would always back off at the right time, as if she knew what he was thinking. 

Freddie was clever, but not clever enough to keep herself out of trouble.

Jack hated her almost as much as Will, and she had all but contaminated his crime scenes in the past. The only thing that kept him from going after her was the backlash that would ensue, and the fact that she was useful every now and then.

Necessary evils, Will mused. He wondered what their killer would think of that kind of philosophy. 


	4. 4

“Jack told me you have been getting along with Doctor Lecter,” Alana said, looking at him curiously over the edge of her coffee cup, “I was surprised. I didn’t think you would be the kind to even talk to a psychiatrist, not to mention one like him.”

Will shrugged, staring at the salt shaker on the table between them. 

“He doesn’t talk to me like a psychiatrist,” Will said, “and I blame his son entirely for all of it. I was ready to never see him again, but Myko just had to humanize the guy for me. He’s a good dad.”

Alana raised an eyebrow. 

“That’s a lot to unpack, Graham,” she said, sounding amused, “he doesn't’ talk to you like a psychiatrist? Mykolas lets you call him Myko? You know about his parenting techniques? I need you to tell me everything now. You’ve only just met Hannibal, and you have good things to say about him. That’s unheard of from you.”

Will nodded. He was well aware of how strange it was. He didn’t just like people, especially without knowing them for at least a year. 

“He talks to me like a person,” Will said with another shrug, “he doesn’t ask me intrusive questions. If he wants to know something, he lets me know he’s curious. He’s plenty curious, but he goes about it differently than most people. Especially psychiatrists.”

Alana hummed curiously, her eyes sparkling with interest. 

“And Mykolas? He lets you call him Myko? Does Hannibal know?”

Will laughed sheepishly, feeling like there must be something more going on that he didn’t know about. 

“First time I talked to the kid, he asked me to call him Myko. I didn’t realize that was weird. Is it weird? Doctor Lecter found out only seconds later, ‘cause he came out and heard me say it. He doesn’t seem upset about it. He actually told me he was impressed that I got along with the kid so well. Talking to the kid is how I know he’s a good dad. Now, are you going to tell me why all of this is so interesting to you?”

Will needed her to give him something. He needed to know what the deal was with Doctor Lecter. 

Alana seemed like she was about to laugh.

“Hannibal has been married five different times,” she said, leaning forward and lowering her voice, “Three of them were men. They all died tragically. He doesn’t warm to people very quickly, and I have never heard anyone call his son Myko. He is incredibly formal, and it extended to his son. Knowing you, it’s hard to imagine he would even consider talking to you outside of work. You aren’t exactly a social butterfly.”

Will huffed a laugh.

“That’s true. So, I guess this is really weird behavior for both of us. You tempted to make us into a case study?”

The gentle prod made Alana tisk at him. She tossed her head a bit, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

“You know, I just might be. It isn’t wise to give me dangerous ideas like that, Will,” she said with a sly smile, “but I think he would find that rude. He doesn’t really like people to gossip about his dating life.”

Will frowned.

“We’re not dating.”

Alana shrugged.

“Well, he’s clearly interested. You must have made a very good impression, especially with his kid. You should know that’s always a good way to be attractive to single parents. Their kids are everything to them. You don’t get in unless they like you. Mykolas clearly really likes you, and I know Hannibal. If he offers to feed you next, then you can’t tell me he doesn’t like you.”

Will felt his face grow warm and he looked down at his coffee.

“Uh, he sort of already did,” he revealed.

Alana wanted to squeal happily. Will could feel it. He was glad she was refraining, because he did not need to attract attention at the moment.

“When?” She asked, “you guys only just met.”

Will wet his lips and swallowed.

“When Jack drug us both out of town for the new body,” Will said, “he showed up with breakfast.”

Alana clapped softly, but excitedly.

“I told you! He is definitely into you. I’m a bit jealous. He’s basically the most desirable man in Baltimore society. I’m sure there will be quite a few broken hearts when word gets around that he’s after someone,” she explained, “and I have to warn you, he usually gets what he wants.”

Will chuffed.

“Hence the five marriages,” he said.

Alana pursed her lips.

“You might not want to talk about that with him,” she warned.

“Too late,” Will told her bluntly, taking a drink of coffee, “Over breakfast, he asked me to analyze him. I didn’t pull any punches. He had been sort of agitating me to get me to talk.”

Alana covered her mouth to hide the fact that it was gaping open.

“And he’s still talking to you? He must really like you. I wonder why.”

Will shrugged, feeling like he had been doing that a lot. He just didn’t know what else to do. It was a universal response, and helped him feel less awkward.

“Not only is he still talking to me, he offered to be a buffer between Lounds and I when I inevitably have to talk to her,” Will said, “Which came as a surprise to me.”

Alana considered that.

“You just keep confirming my suspicions,” she declared, sipping her coffee, “but I can’t figure out why he’s so interested. I didn’t think you were his type.”

“I’m as lost as you. I can’t begin to imagine,” Will said.

Alana narrowed her eyes at him.

“You mean you won’t, without his permission,” she decided.

Will huffed a laugh. 

“Well, that would be rude, and we both know he doesn’t like that. I try not to get into people’s heads if I don’t have to. He’s been pretty polite about respecting my boundaries concerning that as well.”

Alana smiled.

“That’s what he’s best known for. Being polite. That and his amazing food.”

Will nodded.

“It was pretty good,” he conceded.

\---

“I should have accepted your offer,” Wil confessed.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow and opened the door wider to permit Will entry. He had invited Will over for lunch after the interview with Freddie. 

“I hope nothing terribly unfortunate was said by either of you,” Hannibal said, gesturing for Will to follow him further into the house, “I imagine Jack may be unhappy.”

Will scoffed. 

“Oh, he’ll be plenty unhappy alright. The worst bit is, he’s got good reason to direct it at me. I was angry, and she always knows that’s how to get me,” Will confessed, then remembered, “And thanks for rubber stamping my eval. It’s really made everything easier, and now we don’t have to worry about it anymore.

Hannibal nodded. He had actually been happy to do it, which Will had wondered about. He thought it probably had to do with what Alana had said, and it made him smile at the memory. Hannibal was willing to brush aside his duties as a psychiatrist just to get on Will’s good side.

There were three plates on the island in the kitchen, covered in food that looked nicer than anything Will had even seen at a restaurant. Hannibal picked them each up, layering two onto one arm the way professional servers did, and nodded toward a doorway that led to his dining room.

When Will entered, Myko looked up from the table and smiled widely. His canines were just a touch crooked, poking out slightly in the same way Hannibal’s did when he smiled.

“Hello, Will!” he said happily, “I told you we would see you again.”

Will laughed softly. He had known the kid was right, but now he felt odd about it. He wasn’t a sociable person, but here he was, eating lunch with someone he hardly knew at all. It was weird. There was something about Hannibal that made Will feel like he could trust him, and he actually enjoyed his company. It was rare to unheard of for him to actually enjoy the company of a near stranger. 

But here he was.

“Yeah. I know. You told me so,” Will admitted, “And your dad hasn’t even bought me dinner yet.”

Myko laughed, and there was a curious twinkle in Hannibal’s eye as he set the plates down at each of their seats. He was amused too.

“I told you he would do you one better. His food is better than anything he could buy you anyway, so this is probably the closest you will get,” Mykolas retorted, earning a chiding glance from his father.

“I can do much better than this,” Hannibal replied calmly as both he and Will took their seats, “and I most certainly will, if the concerned parties are amenable.”

Will raised his eyebrows at that.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he said, “but what does that even mean?”

Hannibal smiled, just a bit, and it seemed mischievous. It was an odd expression to see on a man so well put together. It looked a lot like the kind of expression Will had come to expect from Myko.

“An evening without the company of a child would provide much more potential than this lunch,” he explained.

Will felt his face heat up, and he honestly didn’t know what to say. 

“Myko, I think you’re dad likes me even more than you thought,” Will said, giving Myko a wink.

Myko laughed, and it was a nice, musical laugh for a child. 

Will turned back toward Hannibal and studied him for a moment. 

“I just can’t figure why,” he said, “I mean, I’m not a polite person, or sociable. I haven’t done anything to encourage you to enjoy my company, and yet here we are.”

Hannibal nodded.

“Here we are,” he agreed.

Mykolas made himself busy cutting perfectly polite bits of food and chewing them thoughtfully, apparently content to let the discussion continue between the two adults for now. 

“So, care to explain, Doctor Lecter, or is this a guessing game?” Will asked, taking his own bite and nearly becoming distracted by how delicious it really was.

Hannibal hummed softly.

“I wonder if you would agree to a guessing game,” he mused aloud, “or if you would feel that is too revealing of your thought processes. I am certainly curious as to what you might think.”

Will took another bite and thought it over. 

One thing Hannibal was consistent with was expressing his curiosity. If he wanted to know something, he let Will know. It was reassuring, in a way. It was like he was asking permission to inquire. He also used a very passive way of asking, so Will never felt he was obligated to give the “correct” answer. 

“If I guess right, would you tell me?” Will asked in return.

Hannibal seemed pleased, and he nodded.

“Of course.”

Will nodded thoughtfully. He wondered if there was only one reason, or if Hannibal would admit to as many as he could guess.

“Well,” Will began, “You have a professional curiosity about me, just because of my nature and reputation.”

Hannibal nodded.

“Myko was kind enough to let me know you think I am intelligent, and you found me considerate at our first meeting. You aren’t being intrusive with your questions, like other psychiatrists. You aren’t insulted when I make observations about you. You don’t want to laud your knowledge about me to your psychiatrist friends. You want to understand me…”

Will furrowed his brow, unsure if he should say the next bit. It might sound arrogant, but he thought it must be the truth.

“... because I am the only one you think who can understand you.”

The twinkle was back in Hannibal’s eye as he nodded in agreement. 

“Do you consider me to be wrong in thinking so?” he asked.

Will shrugged.

“I can only wonder what you might have in your head that makes you so sure you are hard to understand. You aren’t a narcissist, at least not an extreme one, so that’s not it. You must know something I don’t, so I can’t really judge you for it.”

Hannibal smiled lightly.

“You really are very smart,” Myko piped up, seeming almost as pleased as Hannibal, “Father does not often care so much about what others think of him. He told me to be on my best behavior, so he must really want to make an impression.”

Hannibal’s eyes grew a bit wider, and he looked at his son with a bit of disbelief.

“Mykolas,” he chided, though he sounded a bit nervous.

“As if acting how I always do would make him look bad,” Myko continued despite his father, “I am perfectly aware I am much more well behaved than most children of my age. This was the first time he requested I behave well, because he knows I always do. I was surprised, but it just shows how much he really cares about how you see him.”

Hannibal seemed to nearly be in physical pain as he could do nothing but watch as Mykolas revealed all of this to Will.

Will finally couldn’t stop himself anymore, and he broke into laughter. Tears sprung to his eyes as he laughed, and he felt the lack of oxygen reaching his muscles. He shook with it, and tried to stop and breathe deeply.

“I’m sorry. That’s probably really rude of me,” Will offered, wiping the tears away from his face, “It’s probably not often you don’t have control of how someone sees you. Myko doesn’t reveal your secrets to everyone he meets, I bet. I must be real special for this to all happen so quickly after meeting you both.”

Hannibal sighed, seeming frustrated, and slightly embarrassed. Will got the sense he had never felt that way in front of company before. 

“You are correct in that observation,” he admitted, clearing his throat softly, “Mykolas does not make a habit of telling others anything about me they would not already know. I am not sure why he would feel the need to do so today.”

Mykolas shrugged, seeming entirely pleased with himself. 

“I told you before, Father. I play a different game than you. You should be pleased with the end goal regardless.”

Hannibal did not seem convinced, but he also resigned to it. 

\---

“I apologize for the actions of my son,” Hannibal said, seeming to genuinely be upset by it all, “I was not aware he had intended to say anything that he did.”

Will grinned.

“You should be able to tell I’m not upset by it,” he said, “but you are. I’m sorry too. I wish you didn’t have to feel so uncomfortable about it.”

Hannibal looked at Will, his jaw working as he was clearly at a loss for words. Will was actually sorry he was being put through something that seemed so difficult for him. He was still amused that it was difficult, because the man was so put together otherwise. 

“I imagine you have a difficulty understanding why I am uncomfortable,” Hannibal said.

Will shook his head in amusement.

“You have your reputation, and he has his. The way he spoke about you felt like he had just ruined them both. You wanted to be seen a certain way, but now you seem more approachable and friendly. Maybe you should thank him for that. I’m not overly fond of psychiatrists. I actually enjoy your company, and it’s good to know you’re human. Imperfections really tend to humanize a person.”

Hannibal closed his eyes and slowly released a breath. When he opened them again, his gaze was intense, and his eyes seemed to almost shine red. He lent forward and gave Will a quick, chaste kiss.

“I do not often feel so human as when in your company,” he confessed, dropping his eyes down to the buttons of Will’s flannel, “Will you join me for dinner on Friday?”

Will smiled, feeling suddenly like he had the power in a situation. Hannibal was being shy and sheepish, which was clearly abnormal for him, and Will was feeling confident and comfortable, which was unheard of. 

“An evening without the company of a child?” he asked, “providing more potential?”

Hannibal ducked his head with a smile.

“That was my hope,” he agreed.

Will hummed, reaching out and gently taking the lapels of Hannibal’s jacket between his fingers. He pulled lightly and whispered in Hannibal’s ear.

“Convince me before then.”

When he pulled away, Hannibal’s pupils were blown wide and his lips were parted slightly. Will smiled and let go of his jacket, smoothing down the front from where his fingers had left small creases.

“See you at work, Doctor Lecter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had to ask people how many dead spouses become suspicious. There was a general reluctance to talk to me about it, probably due to my intense staring. I've come to the conclusion that five is not an unreasonable amount for Hannibal. Suspension of disbelief and all that. Suspicion doesn't stick to him very well, after all.


	5. 5

Will was in the labs when Hannibal walked in. 

Hannibal looked impeccable, as always, but Will could tell he had put in a new layer of effort. His hair was not slicked back as severely as it had been when they first met, and a lock fell to brush his brow. His suit was a dark maroon with blue pinstripes. 

He looked good. Will couldn’t deny that. He almost wished he could, so he could try to convince himself to stop whatever game they seemed to be playing around each other. He had thought more about the entire situation, and knew that logically he should be more concerned. 

“Gotcha!” Beverly said across the lab, drawing the attention of the entire team.

Beverly held up a pair of tweezers, holding something small and dark. Will could only guess it was a hair from that far away, but it had to be important, because Beverly was grinning.

“Got a hair off the most recent body,” she explained to everyone’s curious looks, “no follicle, but we might be able to get mitochondrial DNA from it. It’s the best thing we’ve got so far.”

Price nodded thoughtfully, but Zeller rolled his eyes. 

“Great. So we can match to the killer, or his mom, grandma, or any of his siblings,” Zeller said.

Beverly made a face at Zeller, and Price hit him on the arm gently. Zeller frowned, seeming not to understand why he was being reprimanded.

“Good job, Bev,” Will said, “At least someone here is doing their job.”

Price grinned, nodding and pointing at Will in agreement. Zeller frowned, but stopped, which was Will’s goal in the beginning.

Price nudged Zeller and they both turned to get to their work. Will watched, feeling irked by their antics, but satisfied that he had been able to shut it down. Hannibal walked over to stand next to Will, and they both watched the team work for a moment before Jack walked in and saw them both.

“I’m glad you’re both here,” Jack declared, coming over to them, “I need a detailed profile of this psycho on my desk as soon as possible. I want you to work together on it. Since, you’re both on the case, I think that’s the best plan. Does that work?”

Will knew it wasn’t really a question of if. Jack would “fix” any problem either of them had with the arrangement, so it was just a matter of how soon they agreed.

Will nodded, glancing at Hannibal who mirrored the motion. Jack smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Good. Now, I hear Agent Katz has something.”

Jack walked away, and Will sighed softly.

“Well, where do you want to work?” Will asked, turning to face Hannibal fully for the first time, “We can go to my classroom, or somewhere else if you have a preference. We should get to it quick to get Jack off our backs.”

He paused, looking over Hannibal.

“I guess just off _ my _ back, actually. I can’t imagine he’s much of a bother to you.”

Hannibal smiled.

“I have an engagement tonight, but you are welcome to join me. It is only dinner at my home. I’m afraid I promised Mykolas I would be there tonight to dine with him. Otherwise I would be perfectly amenable to whatever you prefer.”

Will huffed a soft laugh.

“And I thought you were going to have to wait for Friday,” he said, “Alright. Just let me get my things. I’m always happy to see Myko.”

The last comment was meant to elicit a reaction, and Will was not disappointed. Hannibal pursed his lips, showing a bit of frustration, but it was clear he was amused at the same time.He had good humor about the entire situation, and Will smirked.

They made their way to Will’s classroom, and Will gathered his things quickly. Hannibal seemed content to wander the room, looking around as if it was some sort of exhibit. Will didn’t mind, feeling like the room didn’t contain much of himself for Hannibal to find. 

“Let’s head out,” Will said.

Hannibal turned to him and nodded.

“Would you prefer driving separately, or would you grant me the joy of your company on the drive?” Hannibal asked, walking up so he was standing just within Will’s personal space.

Will laughed softly.

“Alright. That means you are going to have to drive me back here for my car after,” he warned.

Hannibal smiled.

“A worthy sacrifice,” he replied, taking Will’s arm in hand and leading him gently toward the doorway.

Once they were on the road, Hannibal seemed relaxed and happy. It was a bit weird, because Will had expected him to have something he was dying to talk about, but he looked like he was perfectly content to go the entire drive in silence. 

The radio was on, pouring soft classical music into the air around them, but it was quiet enough to still invite conversation between them. Will wasn’t used to feeling like he actually wanted the other person to start talking. Companionable silence was usually the only thing he wanted from his company. In this case, he needed the other man to speak, to quiet the worry in his head about what he might be getting himself into. It was a game that should have been nothing more than entertaining, but Will knew there was something going on with the man. Three dead husbands and two dead wives made a pattern that should have been a red flag, but for some reason he didn’t feel concerned.

“How has Myko been doing?” Will asked, trying to sound casually interested. 

Hannibal glanced over, seeming amused.

“He is doing very well. He will likely inform you that he has finished Hamlet.”

And that was it. Will had expected, and sort of hoped, that Hannibal would talk about his son in the same way other parents did. Instead, he had given him just that much and had stopped. 

“You know, most parents would take the opportunity to tell me all about their kid,” Will pointed out, “explaining their favorite colors, and the funniest thing they have ever done.”

Hannibal hummed in agreement.

“I have never enjoyed hearing others talk about their children, so I thought to be courteous and not offer unsolicited information to those who will not appreciate it. I very rarely talk about my son more than I am asked to.”

Will scoffed.

“Most parents don’t care if others want to hear about it. It satisfies a desire in themselves to have their child recognized, even if they end up annoying everyone with the stories,” Will retorted.

Hannibal smiled lightly.

“Another example of your incredible empathy. You understand the motivation of parents, despite not having a child of your own,” Hannibal said, “I suppose I do not have the same desire to force others to recognize my child for his achievements.”

Will laughed.

“That’s a lie, Doctor Lecter,” he said, “you want people to see him for the brilliant kid he is. You just want to look like you are more polite than those who show off their mediocre kids. It’s your pride that keeps you quiet when you want to talk.”

Hannibal didn’t reply immediately. He seemed to be considering Will’s words, and Will wondered if he had truly never realized his own motivations. 

After a minute, Will decided he had some velocity and he wanted to keep at it. 

“Anyone who hears you have a kid must think “Oh, that boy must be so intelligent,” “that child must have such a fine home life,” and then you introduce him and their expectations are exceeded. Not only is he intelligent, well behaved, and well loved, but you act so modest about it, and he has learned to act humble as well. You impress people more by not talking about your son than you would by bragging about him as much as other parents. Even if they are disappointed when they meet him, you haven’t given them any reason to think he’s amazing, because you haven’t talked about him. All expectations are the fault of someone else. It’s a clever way to go about it. I just hope you realize it’s strange.”

Will decided that was enough for Hannibal to stew over, and let the quiet envelope them again. He looked out the window at the fading sunlight. They drove for a while before Hannibal finally gathered his thoughts enough to reply to Will’s musings.

“I am reminded why I initially became curious about you,” Hannibal said at last, “you have the unique ability to understand me. Perhaps even better than I understand myself. I have never met one who can see what you can.”

There were unsaid words there, hanging in the air after Hannibal had finished speaking. Will studied the other man, wondering about him. There must have been something buried deep, that Hannibal expected Will to find. That would be why he was so interested in Will getting to know him and learning about him. There had to be something secret, that he didn’t tell others.

“That’s why you’re not telling me,” Will said, earning a curious glance from Hannibal, “Why you’re not telling me whatever it is you’re hiding. You want me to know, but you want me to find out on my own. You want to see if I can figure it out.”

Hannibal sighed, and it sounded like he was relieved more than anything.

“I have every faith in you, Will,” he replied, a note of affection in his voice that Will couldn’t miss, “and every time we see each other, I am more convinced of my decision.”

Will hummed.

“Your decision to be interested in me,” he said.

Hannibal nodded, and they drove the rest of the way in silence. It was an even more comfortable silence now, and both of them had plenty to think about before they arrived.

\---

“Hello, Will!” Myko said happily, “I finished Hamlet!”

Will grinned.

“I know,” he said, matching Myko’s tone of excitement, “Your dad told me. How did you like it?”

Myko shot Hannibal a scowl, apparently having been foiled in some plan.

“I really enjoyed it,” he replied, slightly deflated, “but I think Hamlet took too long to decide to kill Claudius. He could have avoided most of the conflict if he had acted sooner.”

Will nodded thoughtfully.

“True, but then what would you read? His hesitance makes the story.”

Myko considered that, frowning in thought.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he confessed, “it really would not have been a tragedy if he had won in the first act.”

Will nodded, and Hannibal walked past them both into the kitchen to retrieve their dinner. Myko led Will into the dining room and gestured for him to sit. It was the same motion Will had seen Hannibal use, and the similarity made him smile to himself.

Over the course of speaking to Myko more often, he found that the boy tried not to show his accent. Even when he spoke freely, it was not as obvious as his father’s, but there were words that always rounded out more than others, and particular vowels that he often failed to govern. Will wondered if Hannibal had taught the boy how to speak Lithuanian, or if it all came just from exposure to his father.

“I read somewhere that if you were to transpose the main character from one of Shakespeare’s plays into another, the plot would be much different,” Myko said, cleaning away some papers from his seat at the table, “For example, changing Hamlet out for Macbeth.”

Will nodded, having actually written a paper on that subject while he was in high school. His thoughts on the matter had evolved since then, but it gave him a good starting ground to speak about.

“Macbeth certainly didn’t beat around the bush as much as Lord Hamlet,” Will agreed, “but have you read that one? I thought that would be one of the plays your dad saves for when you are older.”

Myko scrunched his nose in a way Will couldn’t imagine Hannibal ever doing. It was a very childlike action, but one that didn’t match the man’s features. It must have been something he got from his mother, though Will was having a difficulty conjuring a picture of what she might have looked like. 

“I haven’t,” the boy confessed, “but I know of it, to an extent.”

Will smiled.

“So, you brought it up to see if someone who has read them both agrees with the opinion you read somewhere,” he concluded, teasing the boy a bit, “how clever of you.”

Myko sighed, the sound as long suffering and heavy as his small lungs could produce.

“Sometimes you are too smart,” he pouted, “I don’t like it when people know what game I am playing.”

Will laughed lightly, and Hannibal returned with their food.

“I think you and your dad have that in common,” Will said, “even though you play different games.”

Myko scrunched his nose again, glancing at Hannibal, who looked as pleased and amused as Will had ever seen him.

“Mykolas, you must never assume anything when it comes to Will Graham,” Hannibal warned good-naturedly, “he is beyond even my powers of prediction.”

That seemed to impress Myko, who looked back to Will with somewhat of a wary expression. He cut a bite of food and placed it carefully on his tongue, musing over something as he chewed slowly.

“Do you play, Will?” he asked at length, earning a surprised huff from Will, and a sharp look from Hannibal.

“Not the same game you play,” Will replied with a smile, “but maybe the same one as your dad. I’m still not quite sure what that is yet, though.”

Will raised an eyebrow at Hannibal, who met it with a pleasant expression that conveyed his dedication to not giving anything away. Myko flicked his eyes between Will and his father, his expression unsure.

“You are mocking me,” he concluded, “For playing a game of being smarter than I really am.”

Will shook his head, schooling his expression into one of sincere denial.

“No,” he said, “you are just as smart as you seem, probably more. The game you played was of knowing something you don’t. It will work on most people, so do it carefully. You don’t want to get sucked into an elaborate lie about something you don’t know. It’s a dangerous game you play, Myko.”

Myko beamed, and Will knew he felt understood, and accepted by an adult he valued. Will knew it would stick in his mind for the future. He would remember later that Will had been kind to him in a moment when others would have reprimanded him for being proud or rude. 

Will wondered if it made him selfish for thinking about it. He didn’t treat children well just to pad his own ego. He really didn’t even feel like that good of a person, except that he was better to children than some adults he had met.

Perhaps something of his internal conflict played over his features, because Hannibal tipped his head to study him again.

“Will, I think you are uniquely understanding of such games as we play, my son and I,” Hannibal said, smiling to them both, “I trust you to discover my own game much more quickly than even you may expect.”

Myko smirked, turning his attention back to his dinner, and Will wondered what sort of things he might expect from either of them.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will gets some more information from some unorthodox sources.

Will was  _ not _ sneaking around in Hannibal Lecter’s house. 

The fact that he  _ happened _ to be just down the hall when the soft melody began was  _ purely _ coincidental, and had nothing at all to do with the fact that Will was insatiably curious about the man who had invited him to join them. The melody was unfamiliar, and the words were German, he thought. He felt it was strange that the song Hannibal sang to his son was not Lithuanian, as he had heard them converse quietly in that tongue as Hannibal checked his son’s preparations for bed. 

There must have been some significance to the tune, because Hannibal murmured the words softly and never stumbled over them. He knew them by heart, and he shared it with his son in a ritual that had Will convinced it was done every night. 

A boy as old as Myko would not usually have a lullaby before bed, but Will could tell there was no conflict between them about what was occurring. It was expected, and respected. It was likely an action that held more meaning to Hannibal than to his son, but if he had been true to his word, Mykolas knew what the meaning was.

Will snuck back into the study to avoid being caught, and organized his files of papers while he waited for Hannibal to return.

He felt a light flutter of affection in his chest at the thought of someone like the renowned Doctor Hannibal Lecter doing something so normal and human as tucking in a child. 

Will had been telling the truth when he had told Hannibal Myko was to thank for most of the reasons he enjoyed Hannibal’s company. Every little peek into the man’s life felt like a peek into his heart, and the very reminder that he had one. Will was able to be more comfortable around Hannibal when he could see how human he was, and how caring he could be. The fact that he did not try to force his care onto Will, like Alana had at one point, and respected him as an equal were more comforting to Will than anything else.

“I apologize for my absence. Shall we get to work?” Hannibal asked, walking into the study, looking as proper and formal as ever.

Will couldn’t help but look him over once before answering.

“Yeah. The sooner we get this done, the better, according to Jack.”

Hannibal nodded, though Will knew he had noticed the once over. Hannibal walked over to join him at the desk. Will had the papers spread out and organized, but he wasn’t sure his method of sorting was comprehensible to anyone but himself. Hannibal didn’t ask, though. He looked over the pictures as if it were all a well choreographed snapshot of the killer. Will wondered what he could see that he hadn’t voiced yet. He knew Hannibal kept things to himself unless he was asked. Will supposed it was the polite thing to do.

\---

At some point over the course of the evening, Hannibal had produced wine glasses and all but insisted on sharing some vintage with Will. They had made a lot of headway, and Will hadn’t seen anything wrong with it. 

Now, the profile was nearly finished, but all but forgotten as they were sitting on either end of the couch. Will was turned so he was facing the other man, with one knee up on the couch and the other foot on the floor. Hannibal almost mirrored his position, with his ankle on the other knee, turned so they could converse better.

“Tell me, Will,” Hannibal said smoothly, “how is it that you are seen as a hermit by our colleagues?”

Will huffed a soft laugh and took another sip of his wine.

“You’re asking me why I’m still single,” he surmised, “I’m not very sociable with most people. Even when someone isn’t put off by my abrasiveness, they run away after stumbling across the morbid things I have knocking around up here.”

Will tipped his head back and forth gently to illustrate his point. Hannibal smiled lightly and nodded in understanding.

“Well, doctor, care to share how you manage to be social, and yet still talk to me?” Will asked, feeling brave from the alcohol, and wanting to know.

Hannibal took a sip of his own wine, considering it for a moment.

“There is very little that frightens me,” he offered after a pause, “and I find myself drawn to the more morbid topics, even among those I tend to be social with. I have learned to avoid the topics that make others uncomfortable in order to not offend, though I find it incredibly refreshing that I need not do that with you.”

Will hummed, nodding and staring at the window over Hannibal’s shoulder. It was easier to make eye contact with him, but more sustainable to watch him without focusing on his form. 

“I guess I find it refreshing that you aren’t frightened by what I see,” Will admitted, “but I just don’t take the time to hide all of my thoughts from people in order to be more well liked.”

Hannibal studied Will with an odd fondness that Will had only rarely seen directed at himself. It was a look similar to that which came over Jack when Will could tell he was thinking about his wife. The look he had seen shared between people, and had always considered it a sign of being truly in love.

Needless to say, he wasn’t sure how to feel about being on the receiving end of the expression from someone who should have nothing more than a professional interest in him. 

Will took a drink from his glass of wine and avoided making eye contact. 

“I would like to invite you to the symphony,” Hannibal stated, “There is a performance on Friday, and it would be most convenient to have dinner after. Arrangements have been made for Mykolas for the entire afternoon, and he will be staying the night at the home of one of his friends.”

Will smiled absently. It was funny that Hannibal felt the need to reassure him about where Myko would be. He supposed he did show interest in Myko, so it was a natural thing for Hannibal to consider.

“Is this a black tie event?” Will asked, “and are you going to ask me to be careful of what I say to the other patrons?”

Hannibal’s smile grew, and his eyes seemed to glitter with mischief.

“A suit would be acceptable, and I would never ask you to do anything but speak your mind. You know I enjoy hearing what you have to say.”

Will nodded. 

“How thoughtful of you, Doctor Lecter. I’ll have to see what I can come up with. I’ve decided I need to learn more about you, and maybe seeing you around your other friends is what I need.”

Hannibal tipped his head curiously, pleased by that for some reason. 

“From observation, or by listening to the gossip?” he asked, sounding amused.

Will shrugged.

“Both, though of course gossip must be taken with a grain of salt. It can be informative just as much as it can be untrue. I’m pretty good at picking out the truth of rumors. Especially if I can observe the reaction the subject of the gossip has to hearing it.”

Hannibal nodded, taking a sip of his wine and humming thoughtfully. 

“Then I anticipate hearing what you discover from the outing over dinner,” he decided.

Will took a drink of his wine. 

That made both of them. Will hoped the evening would shed some light on the man who was somehow surrounded by death and yet untouched. Even his reputation did not seem to be much affected by the fact that he could not keep a spouse. 

\---

“Hannibal, dear, you didn’t tell me you would be here tonight,” a woman said, having tracked them down during the apparently obligatory socializing period after the performance. 

Hannibal smiled politely, though Will could tell it was mostly for her benefit, and not as genuine as others he had seen from the man.

“If I announced my attendance before every outing, it would ruin the surprise,” he replied, his tone almost overly friendly and warm.

The woman laughed delicately, then turned her eyes to Will. He could tell she was trying to decide what his presence meant.

“I see you also have a new ornament for the evening,” she said pointedly.

Will saw the slight twitch in Hannibal’s jaw at the term, but the man smiled and turned toward Will. 

“This is Will Graham,” he announced, “Will, this is Madame Komeda.”

Will smiled as politely as he could, knowing he probably looked as uncomfortable as he felt. 

“A pleasure to meet you, I’m sure,” he said, trying not to be insulting right out of the gates. 

Madame Komeda hummed in consideration, apparently curious about him beyond just initial introductions.

“The same,” she said, “I have to admit I did not expect to see Hannibal bring anyone with him again. He was nearly reclusive after the death of Maria. I believe the only thing that kept him going was his son. Having a dependent keeps even broken men together in order to be there.”

Will nodded, expressing as much sympathy as he could in order to show his understanding of her words.

“It’s an admirable thing to raise a child alone, and a noble undertaking especially when in mourning,” he replied, “I have seen too many children being pushed to the shadows when their parents find them an inconvenience. Hannibal has done a wonderful job from what I have seen so far.”

Madame Komeda smiled, and this time it was real. She thought Will was charming. That was unexpected, especially for someone who seemed to have a reputation of good taste. Maybe the elites had a different gauge for what was good than the more middle class people. Will had never spent enough time around them to have found out.

“What is it you do for a living, then, Will?” Komeda asked, sounding more friendly toward him now.

Will hesitated slightly, but Hannibal did not step in to offer something that would sound more tame than reality. He wanted Will to speak his mind, as always.

“I am a criminal profiler for the FBI, and I teach in Quantico when I can,” he replied, “It’s an unforgiving career, but I get to see the next batch of agents go into the field as prepared as I can manage.”

Madame Komeda raised her eyebrows and turned back to Hannibal.

“Of all your talk about enjoying the slightly morbid, I never expected you to find someone like this,” she said, though she sounded more intrigued than anything else, “He’s not your usual type, is he.”

The last comment could have been a question, but Will knew she didn’t expect an answer. At least not an honest one. 

Will couldn’t help but wonder what Hannibal’s type was, at least in the eyes of this woman. She seemed to be familiar with Hannibal’s past, and friendly enough with him to feel comfortable talking about it. She would be a good source of information if Will could get her to talk.

“I will be back in one moment, Will,” Hannibal said, “I do believe there is champagne somewhere around here.”

Will hummed in agreement, half sure Hannibal was offering only to give him the chance to further question the woman. It seemed like something Hannibal would do, especially since he knew Will wanted to learn about him from the people here.

Hannibal made his way through the crowd with the grace of someone who belonged here as much as he did in his own home. He seemed to be able to anticipate the movements of the people around him. 

Madame Komeda smiled fondly at Will when he turned back to face her. He made himself make eye contact in order to not be seen as rude. He needed her to be comfortable with him.

“How long have you known Hannibal?” she asked, a smile in her voice.

Will returned the smile, trying to let himself feel what she was feeling in order to act as she expected of someone in this setting.

“Just over a month, actually,” he answered honestly, “Hannibal was asked to help me create a profiler of a criminal.”

Madame Komeda laughed lightly, apparently surprised by that.

“Well, that certainly isn’t like him,” she said, “he is always professional when in his work environment. I never thought he would pick up his next amour while on the job. There must be something about you that made him break his usual pattern.”

Will noted that she hadn’t said Hannibal’s next spouse. She had used the term amour, meaning Hannibal likely had a dating life outside of his deceased spouses. That was interesting to hear, but nothing surprising. She also was making a point of not saying that Will was on track to becoming his spouse either.

“Must be,” Will agreed pleasantly, “but don’t bother asking me what it is. He won’t tell me. I didn’t realize I was that special though. What’s his usual type like?”

Madame Komeda glanced over to where Hannibal had cleverly allowed himself to be caught in another conversation in order to prolong his absence.

“Not to offend you,” she said, almost conspiratorially, “but I can tell this isn’t exactly your scene. With the others, it usually is. Just look around you, and that’s Hannibal’s type. I’ve never seen him show interest in someone I haven’t seen at one of these before.”

Will did glance around, seeing the shifting masses of silk and chiffon. It was in stark contrast to what he knew in his daily life. He wondered if he looked as out of place as he felt to all the people around him. He had hoped Hannibal would tell him if he looked like he didn’t belong, but he maybe should have expected he wouldn’t.

“I’m certainly not offended by that,” Will answered, “I’m just worried I’m the black sheep this evening. I hadn’t thought I was so obvious.”

Madame Komeda smiled.

“Don’t worry, dear, you look fine. The only reason I can tell is because I’ve been talking to you. Not to mention I know everyone who usually attends these kinds of things. If Hannibal has his way, then everyone will be getting to know you soon enough. This Will _become_ your scene, dear. I hope you are prepared for that.”

Will gave an exaggerated sigh, sagging his shoulders a bit.

“That might be a dealbreaker for me,” he joked, “I’m not a typically social person. I don’t know how I feel about being just another in a line of decorative companions for Doctor Lecter, though.”

Madame Komeda pursed her lips and looked back to where Hannibal was standing. At the same time, Hannibal glanced over and looked directly at Will. She smiled and turned back.

“I can promise you one thing, dear, Hannibal is interested in making you more than a decoration. You must have noticed his reaction to my initial comment. He likes you a lot. Perhaps even more than I can tell.”

Will felt his face grow warm, and he ducked his head to hide his blush. Was this all normal behavior for people in circles like this? Did they all just say what they were thinking all the time, and everyone around them just forgave it? It would explain how Hannibal acted, and why he was not put off by Will’s words.

“I’ll have to see if that’s something I’m interested in as well,” he said, “but I hope he’ll forgive me if I’m hesitant to become his sixth dead spouse. In my line of work, that counts as a pattern.”

Madame Komeda narrowed her eyes at him, though she wasn’t angry with him. She seemed to be still sizing him up, like she couldn’t be sure if he was there to investigate her, or really there with Hannibal.

“Hannibal might have bad luck with the people he chooses to marry, but if you ever see him interact with his son, you’ll know he’s a good person. He loved them each, and he will do anything for the people he loves. It’s a small circle that few have the privilege of entering, but if you have the chance, you are uniquely chosen. Don’t throw it away too quick because you’re afraid of a curse.”

Will smiled gratefully to her. She had given him a reason to trust Hannibal, even if it was just that he was genuinely interested. It was a valuable character reference, because she had known Hannibal for years. She seemed to have known several of the spouses as well, and knew the quality of their relationship.

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. I’m glad I met you tonight,” Will said, trying to sound as sincere as he could.

Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw Hannibal making his way back over, drinks in hand. Madame Komeda smiled again, seeming fond of him for some reason. She stepped forward and pressed a light kiss to Will's cheek. 

“Tell him I say he should keep you around for a while,” she whispered.

Before Will could reply, Madame Komeda nodded politely to him and disappeared into the crowd again. Will could only watch her leave in stunned silence as Hannibal came back to his side.

“Should I be concerned?” Hannibal asked as he handed Will a glass of champagne.

Will shook his head, still slightly stunned.

“She told me to give you a message,” he said, taking a sip and wishing it were whiskey.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows curiously.

“I dread to ask,” he said, stepping closer so they were almost in the same space.

Will huffed a laugh.

“She said you should keep me,” he said with a laugh.

Hannibal hummed and leaned in so his nose brushed Will’s forehead.

“Something we can agree on, then.”


	7. 7

Not a single person who had actually met and talked to Hannibal had any shadows of suspicion toward the man. That made Will more comfortable with the direction Hannibal clearly wanted the evening to take. 

Hannibal poured them each a glass of wine as he moved around to prepare their dinner. He had stripped out of his blazer and rolled up his sleeves in order to chop some ingredients for whatever fancy dishes he had planned. Will hadn’t asked, sensing that would just give the man an opportunity to say something clever and smooth. As much as he adored those comments, he was more interested in just observing for the time.

“I’ve been warned not to ask you about your spouses,” Will said, testing the waters.

Hannibal hesitated in his movements, just a bit. 

“That would be a common piece of advice given to people in your situation,” Hannibal replied, then glanced up, “I would hazard a guess that you do not intend to follow it, though. You are not one for following societal regulations.”

Will huffed a laugh and shrugged. 

“There are still a few things I haven’t been able to find out. Gossip can only get me so far,” he answered, “and I have the odd feeling you won’t mind talking about it as much as everyone expects.”

Hannibal didn’t answer for a moment, but he wasn’t upset. He was just thinking. 

“I will not mind answering any questions you may have,” he agreed, “and I certainly hope to clear up anything you need.”

Will sighed, feeling better about it then. At least he didn’t have to worry about insulting him. He was giving Will permission to inquire.

“Well, I guess I should just start at the beginning. There are five, so want to tell me about number one?” he asked. 

He knew he wasn’t exactly being tactful about how he was asking, but just hoping Hannibal wouldn’t mind so much. 

Hannibal tossed some ingredients into a frying pan, swirling it with flare as they sizzled loudly. 

“There _were_ five,” he agreed, his tone just a bit clipped as he spoke, showing real emotion, “but there are none at the moment. They have gone, and I am left. My first was Dante. I met him in Florence. We were very happy for three years, but there was one illness I could not heal in him. He was diagnosed with cancer, and the treatment took its toll. He did not last through the radiation, and I watched the life leave him. That was when I decided to change careers.”

Will swallowed hard. 

Why was he making Hannibal do this? It was cruel to make him relive the tragedies of his life. Before he could speak up to tell Hannibal he didn’t need to do this, the man continued.

“The second was Maria. I had moved to the states after the death of Dante, hoping to make a fresh start and escape the painful memories. She was not the same as Dante. She was soft spoken and elegant, where he had been loud and pleasant. She was a welcome calm in the storm of life. A car accident took her from me just after Mykolas came. I felt as if I was not meant to have pleasant things in my life, after her death. The only light in my life at that time was my son.”

Will nodded, feeling that he was too far into this to go back. He wouldn’t stop Hannibal now, and it would end poorly if he tried.

“I admit my next was less of a marriage of love and more of convenience. I had been unsure how to care for Mykolas properly, and found myself lonely. Kalliope was a singer, but she did not have much ambition. She was more than happy to stay at home with Mykolas on the days I could not. She died of an underlying heart condition that was not diagnosed until after her death.”

Hannibal was now speaking with a familiarly numb and distant tone that Will would have recognized in anyone. A voice tinged by tragedy.

“Paris was with me for only three months before he stopped taking his antidepressants and took his own life. Locke was a bright man, and a brilliant speaker. His liver failed him, and he died on the waiting list for a transplant. Another reason I am glad to no longer be a medical doctor. The guilt would be much more if I felt I could have stopped his death.”

Will nodded, taking a long drink of his wine to stop himself from saying something. He wasn’t sure he could do anything to fix what he had just done. 

Will knew the psychological ramifications of what he had done. He knew that Hannibal would remember this conversation every time he looked at Will from now on. He knew that any discomfort Hannibal felt in this moment would be carried to their next interaction, and the next and the next into infinity. It was the way trauma worked. He knew that well enough. No matter how well you dealt with the memories, once you shared them, they would come back whenever you saw the person you shared them with.

Hannibal plated their food and sighed lightly, as if he now felt more relaxed and happy. 

“I think taking dinner in the study would be appropriate,” he said, lifting the plates and nodding to the door.

Will nodded and picked up both of their wine glasses, carrying them to the study as he followed Hannibal. The man seemed to have brushed off the memories of his past with his usual grace, acknowledging it and then moving on. Will thought it must be something he had learned over the course of his parenting. He had seen many parents do similar things, having needed to develop the skill in order to keep functioning for their children.

“I find this a much more comfortable and intimate setting,” Hannibal said, almost offhandedly, as if the words didn’t mean much, “though my reputation for elegant dinners requires I usually serve my guests in the dining room. I find this much more agreeable for evenings such as this.”

Will smiled to himself as he watched Hannibal set the plates down on the side tables to each end of the couch. Hannibal lit a fire, leaving the lights extremely low, and Will almost felt it was almost a stereotypical sort of atmosphere. It was the kind of thing people would try to set up for dates. 

Will supposed that was alright.

Will took off his blazer, only then realizing that he was still wearing it. Hannibal had discarded his own earlier, but Will had forgotten he had worn a suit for the evening. He undid his tie and stuffed it into the pocket of the blazer as he draped it over the back of the couch and took his seat. 

They sat on either end of the couch once again, turned so they could face each other as they spoke.

“You can ask me whatever you want,” Will offered, “It’s only fair after I made you recount all that. Doesn’t matter what the question is. I’ll tell you.”

Hannibal seemed amused by the idea, musing over it in silence for a moment as he stared into the crackling fire. His eyes looked blood red in this light, and Will felt like he wanted to see what was going on behind them. He wanted to sift through the contents of the other man’s brain. 

He had never wanted that before, finding most people mildly interesting at best. 

“Why are you so determined to be agreeable with children?” he decided after a moment.

Will blinked. He hadn’t expected that to be the direction the conversation took. 

“What makes you think I’m determined?” he asked in return, unable to stop himself.

Hannibal huffed a soft laugh. He had probably seen that coming, but it was still amusing to him that Will didn’t just start off into some explanation.

“You are not naturally talented when it comes to interacting with others, even with children. The type of acceptance and interest you show to Mykolas is something that comes when one is conscious of the impact they may have on a young mind. You have decided at one time or another to be good to children.”

Will nodded, looking to the fire and taking a long drink of his wine as he put his thoughts together. 

Hannibal had probably guessed that the answer would be relatively personal for Will. That was probably why he had asked. It was a way to learn two things about Will. He would learn about Will’s way of thinking as well as learn about his past, possibly about trauma. It was just like a psychiatrist to wield his questions with surgical precision.

“When I was in fifth grade, I learned what psychological abuse was,” Will stated, “and I saw how damaging it could be on a child. I promised myself I would never hurt a child, and I would never stand by and allow a child to be hurt either. Some kids get lucky, and learn to rebel against their abuse and fulfill their potential to spite their abusers. Most don’t, and I believe the adults are responsible for nurturing and protecting the children in this world. I’ll not be one of the monsters who willingly allows a child to be neglected.”

Will took another drink to shove the unpleasant memories from his mind, and to soften whatever reaction Hannibal might have to his words. As universal as his opinion should have seemed, he had made a few people angry with him by voicing it. 

“You were eleven,” Hannibal said softly.

Will sighed.

“Ten. My birthday was later than most kids’,” he corrected numbly.

“I was eight when my sister was taken from me,” Hannibal confided, his tone almost a whisper.

Will looked over to the man, feeling more connected to the man with every word they exchanged.

“A younger sister,” he noted, knowing the man would not see the observation as intrusive, “along with your parents.”

Hannibal nodded, taking an uncharacteristically long drink from his own wine. 

“Tragedy seems to be your companion in life,” Will concluded.

Hannibal smiled, somewhat sadly, and set his glass on the side table. 

“What of your parents, Will?” he asked, “your family? I have not heard you speak of them.”

Will nodded.

“I never knew my mom. Don’t know who she was, where she is, or anything about her. No siblings. Only child, and mostly absent father. We moved up and down the coast, finding work fixing boat motors and anything else dad knew anything about. Never stayed anywhere long.”

“Always the new kid,” Hannibal said.

Will nodded, smiling bitterly and setting his own glass aside to avoid tossing it all back like cheap whiskey. 

“But that suited me just fine,” he said with a shrug, “people have never liked me much, and by moving often I avoided most of the conflict from the other kids realizing I was different.”

Hannibal’s lips tipped up into a small smile that almost matched Will’s. There must have been some similar experience in the other man’s past that he was reminded of. Something that made him also feel some connection with the sentiment.

“How did you find yourself with the FBI?”

Will huffed a laugh. That was such a mundane question. Even though Will knew every question from the man served multiple purposes, it just seemed almost banal.

“I was clever enough to get into college, I guess,” he said, “and the one thing I have always been good at is getting into the heads of other people. It just fell into my lap one day, I guess. It’s my calling.”

Something in the way Will said it seemed to strike Hannibal, making him consider Will once again. His gaze didn’t burn into him so much as it seemed to caress. Will wondered if he would ever get used to that. Then, he wondered if he wanted to.

“So few ever find their true calling in this life,” Hannibal said, sounding a bit wistful, “you must be incredibly privileged to have found yours.”

Will hummed in agreement.

“What about you, Doctor Lecter? Do you think you have found your calling?” he asked.

Hannibal smiled, again that almost mischievous expression that Will expected more from his son than the man. 

“In many ways, yes,” he replied, “in my son I found renewed purpose, and in my career I have found the ability to do genuine good in the world.”

Will hummed. He watched his companion in the low light and felt the sudden urge to make him forget what had happened to him in the past. He wanted Hannibal to have only the things he enjoyed left in his mind.

“Sounds like we both have what we want,” Will said, hoping to earn a reaction from the man.

It worked. 

Hannibal turned to look fully at Will, his eyes burning in the firelight. He moved closer to Will, so their knees were just barely touching, and stared directly into his eyes.

“What if I told you I wish to have more in my life than just that?” he asked, his voice low, “that what I want is not just to have purpose and do good?”

Will leaned forward so they were sharing the same air, their noses almost touching.

“I would say that sounds rather selfish of you, Doctor Lecter,” he replied, “but I would have to confess I want more than that in my life as well.”

Hannibal made the final move, crossing the boundary between them and bringing their lips together in a deep kiss. Will pushed him back onto the couch and moved to straddle his hips, his hands reaching up to pull Hannibal’s expensive tie free from his collar.

Hannibal began to undo the buttons of Will’s shirt and Will grinned into their kiss.

“Stay.”

\---

Mykolas grinned when Will walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Hannibal was preparing something for breakfast. Will knew it was probably more fancy than anything he would have been able to come up with for himself, even on a good day. 

“Hi, Will!” Myko said happily, kicking his feet in a way that reminded Will how young he actually was, “Father wouldn’t tell me if you were here or not. He told me it was a surprise. Did you kiss him?”

Will laughed, familiar with the innocent curiosity most kids had. They were not always very tactful, and he had the sneaking suspicion Myko used that to his advantage as often as he could. He knew better, but also knew he could get away with not acting on it.

Usually.

Hannibal shot Myko a reprimanding look, which Myko accepted with a light huff and nod.

“Sorry,” the boy said, “I am not meant to ask questions like that. Father finds it rude.”

Will took a seat next to the boy at the counter, still grinning. 

“No worries,” he said, “as a matter of fact, I did kiss your dad. Is that okay?”

Myko laughed, and it was a very pretty laugh for a child. It was light and musical, just how you would think a pleasant child would laugh.

“Of course it is,” Myko said, taking a delicate sip from his orange juice, reminding Will of how Hannibal drank wine, “I told him the first day we met you that he should kiss you. He told me not to be childish, and that he would have to make sure you wanted to kiss him too. He is a very polite person, though sometimes he waits too long. I’m glad he didn’t wait too long with you.”

Will laughed, his amusement only growing as he saw the exasperated expression Hannibal wore. The man truly did not know what his child was capable of when it came to Will, and that was making Will entirely more entertained than he felt he should have been.

“Don’t worry, Myko,” Will assured him, “I think your dad knows what he’s doing. It’s his game, after all.”

Myko considered that. 

“It’s our game,” he agreed, “but father said he wasn’t playing our usual game with you. He said you deserve better than that.”

“Mykolas, would you please set the table?” Hannibal spoke up, apparently having heard his son embarrass him enough for the morning.

Myko nodded, getting down from the counter and heading into the dining room.

“You know,” Will said, “he wouldn’t do that if you didn’t make it so obvious it bothered you. That and the fact that I am not doing anything to discourage it either.”

Hannibal sighed.

“I have truly never had any trouble with what my son chooses to say to those he meets before you,” he said, “and I cannot find it in myself to be angry with him when I find myself telling you many things I would usually keep secret. There is a bewitchment about you, Will Graham, that has us both in it’s clutch. It is an intoxicating sensation.”

Will didn’t know what to say to that, and he knew his face was probably growing red. He wasn’t ready for all that so early in the morning. He needed some food in him before he could properly process everything.


	8. 8

Will can’t help but feel like the students can sense a difference in him during the lectures on Monday. He knows it is unlikely any of them really care, or pay enough attention to his actions to notice if he is acting differently now that he and Hannibal have come to an understanding. He knows it’s ridiculous to think any of them can tell.

That doesn’t stop his thoughts from wandering to what they might speculate about him.

At lunch time, Hannibal and Jack entered together, each clearly not having expected to have run into the other at the door of the classroom. Hannibal seemed amused at the idea of somehow thwarting whatever Jack might have planned. Jack looked suspicious of what Hannibal’s presence might mean about his favorite profiler.

“Hey, Hannibal,” Will said, letting Jack wait for a moment, “What brings you by?”

Hannibal smiled and produced a container of food. Will would have bet money that it was somehow still warm and fresh, despite being packed.

“I thought to bring you lunch. Forgive me for the guess that you do not often feed yourself properly.”

Will huffed a soft laugh and nodded.

“You’re right, and you’re forgiven, if only for the fact that I can’t help but feel my mouth water at the thought of your food. Does the dish get an introduction as usual, or do you want it to be a surprise?”

Hannibal set the dish on Will’s desk, lingering close, where their hands were only inches apart.

“I am rather fond of surprises,” he replied before he moved back and stood just a step in front of Jack.

Will was glad Hannibal seemed to have the same idea of how to deal with the agent. They were both purposefully dropping hints to their relationship while all but ignoring him.

“And Jack,” Will said finally, setting his hand on the dish and pulling it closer to him as he looked up to the agent, “What can I do for you today?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at Hannibal, who only smiled genially and nodded in acknowledgement.

“The Ripper is back,” Jack said without further preamble, “We found a body yesterday, but you made it clear we weren’t allowed to bother you.”

Will huffed.

“That didn’t stop you. I turned off my phone after the first call. Sorry about that, but I have conditions on my work with you. You want me on the Ripper case? Are you sure it’s them? It’s been two years.”

Jack nodded. 

“I won’t apologize for trying,” he confessed, “but I do need you to come in. I want you to confirm or deny, if you can. It looks like the Ripper, but it has been two years. I can’t be sure, but I’m sure you can.”

Will sighed.

“Alright, Jack. I’ll see what I can do for you. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do what I can. I don’t suppose you are inviting Doctor Lecter to join us, are you?”

Jack pressed his lips together and looked the doctor up and down. Hannibal did his very best to seem the innocent. It was almost funny.

“If you’re free to lend a hand, I would be more than happy to have you, Doctor,” Jack said at last, “I need all the minds I can get.”

Hannibal smiled and nodded politely.

“I’m amenable to that, as I am already here with some time to spare. I only have a few hours before I will have to retrieve my son from school.”

Jack sighed, but nodded and gestured for them both to follow him out of the classroom. Will picked up the dish of food and brought it with, knowing he might not have many chances to eat. Hannibal and Will fell into step with each other, a few feet behind Jack as they walked down to the labs. 

Will wondered what Jack thought about the interaction he had witnessed, and if it would come back to bite them at any point. Jack would likely try to catch Will alone to confront about it, unless he decided it wasn’t any of his business. Will hoped he would choose the latter, but he knew better than to expect it. Jack was always worried about how things might look, especially if any journalists got a hold of anything that might look bad for the Bureau. 

Will glanced up to Hannibal, who met his eyes, and some sort of understanding passed between them. Will nodded and relaxed his shoulders, rolling them to ease any tension. 

He was reassured that Hannibal was not perturbed by Jack’s opinions, and would stand with him in battle if and when it came to that. 

The labs were quiet when they walked in. The team were all bent over a body, peering inside at something. Beverly looked up at the sound of their approach, but Price and Zeller were too distracted by what they were seeing to notice the new arrivals.

“Did you find something new?” Jack asked, startling the two out of their trance and drawing their gazes up to him.

“Jack,” Zeller said, “Uh, well, there is something about this one. We aren’t sure what to make of it.”

Jack gestured for both Hannibal and Will to accompany him as he stepped closer to the table where the body lay. They all peered down together at what Zeller was fixated on.

There was a fishing lure in the corpse's heart.

For one, brief, ridiculous moment, Will thought it was one of his own. Taking a second look, he didn’t recognize it, and he nearly sighed aloud in relief. It didn’t have to mean anything if it wasn’t his, and it was absurd to think it would have anything to do with him. Even with this logical explanation, there were niggling doubts in the back of his mind, whispering that some things were too coincidental to be coincidences.

“Is that-?”

“It's a fishing fly,” Will answered, stopping Jack’s aghast question, “It’s called a Fatal Attraction.”

The others stopped and looked at Will. Will took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt to give his hands something to do.

“I tie my own flies,” Will explained, “but I don’t use fatal attractions much. They aren’t as specialized as I prefer. They are a fairly universal style that can catch lots of different fish.”

Zeller shifted away from Will, just a bit, as if the mere fact he knew about the lure meant he had something to do with it being there. Will couldn’t blame him, having actually considered it at the first sight of the lure. 

“This is some form of message from the killer, then,” Hannibal concluded, standing next to Will and nearly brushing against his shoulder, “to someone they are sure will be seeing the body.”

Will nodded, and looked up to Jack.

“Can I have some pictures of the scene?” he asked.

Jack nodded, and Zeller quickly walked over to a table and retrieved some photos for Will to look at. Will accepted them silently and flipped through the first few that were just bits of evidence. He needed the whole scene.

Will finally found the picture he was looking for, and he felt his knees buckle and his legs fail. He toppled into Hannibal, who held him up firmly, saving him from hitting the floor.

“Will,” Hannibal said, cutting through the static in Will’s head, “what do you see?”

Will shook his head, forcing himself to stand independently, and handed the picture to Hannibal. He turned his gaze up to the face of the corpse, and had his fears confirmed. 

The victim looked like him. 

They weren’t exact matches, of course. They would be able to be told apart by anyone who knew one or both of them. But it was too coincidental. Too many parts of this connected back to Will, though not in a really incriminating sense. 

“That is rather worrisome,” Hannibal mumbled, studying the picture of the scene.

It was beautiful. 

Will couldn’t lie to himself and say he couldn’t see that. The man had been opened with a Y-incision, just like for an autopsy, and his ribs had been pried apart to expose the lungs and heart. They hadn’t been broken or removed, but just pushed out of the way. The sternum had been removed, each rib popped out of the cartilage that had connected them there. The fishing lure had been carefully hooked into the flesh of the heart, and the man’s liver had been taken. The incision had been sewn back up, and the man hugged his stomach as if to hold it closed, despite the peaceful and relaxed expression in his face. His eyes were closed, and his head bowed slightly down to his chest. He was pale, having been drained of blood. Will knew the killer had drained his blood for no reason other than to avoid the unfortunate coloring livor mortis would bring. 

Will imagined he was nearly as pale as the victim in that moment, as his mind made rapid connections despite his desire to shut it all off.

“Check his mouth,” Will said, feeling a bit lightheaded, but refusing to fall into Hannibal again.

Zeller furrowed his brow and stared at Will in confusion. Luckily, Price was nearby, and he stepped over to open the mouth of the corpse and peer inside.

There was a quiet curse from Price as he spun around in search of something. Jack was clearly about to ask what on earth he had found, when Price found the forceps he had been looking for. He returned to the head of the corpse and pulled the small object from the cavity, lifting it to show the rest of them.

“A pearl?” Zeller asked, looking as if he were more confused now than he had ever been before in his life. 

Will had to steady his breathing, and he could feel two pairs of eyes boring into him. Jack was waiting for an explanation, and Hannibal was watching to see how he was reacting. It was a strange dichotomy, and Will didn’t know what to do about either of them.

“What does it mean, Will?” Jack demanded, though his voice was not as loud as it could have been. He must have been trying to be relatively tame in the face of the psychiatrist.

“I’m not sure,” Will admitted, rubbing his brow and feeling a headache coming on, “um, it’s a pearl of truth. I’m guessing the article Freddie posted about me is out, and pretty eye-catching. She sure got the attention of someone, and now it’s directed at me. I don’t know what this is supposed to mean, but it’s some sort of proxy for me. The guy even looks like me.”

Jack was not happy. 

“Do I need to take you off the case?” he asked.

Will shook his head.

“I’m technically not officially on it yet,” he reminded, “but I don’t think I’m in any danger. This isn’t a threat against me. It’s sort of an… acknowledgement? It’s like he’s just letting me know I’ve gotten his attention.”

Jack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He clearly hadn’t been expecting this kind of development in the case. He had definitely been hoping for a different kind. This didn’t get them anywhere, and he knew it was bordering on compromising one of his agents. He would not be happy until the killer was caught.

“What about the lure?” Jack asked, seeming to remember it suddenly. He looked at Will expectantly, and Will wasn’t sure what to say.

“Maybe he’s saying he’s going to catch me, or maybe he’s saying he already has. Maybe it will make sense when the next one drops. I can’t make much sense of it right now, Jack. Like I said, it’s a fairly universal lure. It doesn’t say anything about his prey.”

Jack nodded in disappointment, staring at the body as if it had just failed at the one job he had put to it. They all stood in silence for another minute before Jack looked up at Hannibal with an expression akin to hope.

“Doctor Lecter. Anything to add?” he asked.

Hannibal scanned over the body, then looked back to the picture he held.

“I agree with the assessment that Will is not in any danger,” he said, “However, I believe the killer wishes Will to stay on the case once he is put on. This is an invitation. He is inviting Will to be his audience. He will not react well if he finds out Will is not being given access to his crime scenes and victims. You must weigh your options well before you decide what to do next, Jack.”

That was evidently not what Jack had wanted to hear. He pressed his lips together and nodded. He was resigned to what he was being told. He would probably lose sleep over the decision he had to make now, and Will pitied him for it. 

“Alright. Both of you can go. I’ll contact you when I decide where to go from here,” he said, waving them both off dismissively, “I know you have things to do.”

Hannibal nodded politely and turned to Will with a slightly amused expression, as if Jack had just given them permission to see each other. Will almost laughed aloud at the sight, but the dead body in his immediate vicinity sobered him a bit. 

They headed back to Will’s classroom. Will still had the warm dish of food in one hand, and he wondered again what Hannibal had brought him. 

“You know, you don’t have to bring me food,” Will said, sitting down behind his desk again, “I haven’t been giving you anything in return. I’ve actually been making you do all the work so far. I feel a bit guilty for that.”

Despite his guilt, he took a bite of the food and hummed in enjoyment. Maybe he was greedy, but Hannibal was the one to blame for having such amazing food.

“Bring me a fish, then,” Hannibal decided, taking his own seat in a chair near the corner of the desk. 

Will almost choked on the food. He hadn’t expected Hannibal to say something like that.

“What?” he asked.

Hannibal smiled.

“You enjoy fishing,” he explained, “and I enjoy cooking. It brings me joy to share my hobby with you, so if you feel you need to do something in return, share yours with me. We can collaborate on a dinner. You provide fish, and I will prepare it.”

Will actually grinned. For some reason, that actually sounded perfect. He was already going through fishing spots, lures, and types of fish he would like to get. He wondered how Hannibal would choose to prepare the fish for a meal, and he started actually looking forward to it. That was new for him.

“Deal. What day?” he said.

Hannibal relaxed back into the chair, seeming pleased.

“Whatever day you choose, Will,” he said, “though of course I understand either of us may need to reschedule, due to our professions, and my son. Life is unpredictable.”

Will nodded, but his mind was miles away. He was thinking of fishing, and the smell of the water as it rushed by around his legs. 

Maybe he really needed this. He just needed an excuse to give himself a break and do something he really enjoyed. Hannibal might have done that on purpose, but once again Will couldn’t resent it. He was right. 


	9. 9

Will had been right about the article Freddie had posted about his interview. It was… interesting.

_ Will Graham, special investigator and teacher for the FBI, gives his thoughts on the most recent series of deaths plaguing the Baltimore area, as well as an inside view to how he works as a criminal profiler without passing the required screening processes to become an agent. _

_ “You informed me this killer is filled with wrath and incredible anger. That he takes that anger out on people he thinks are sinners. Can you explain how you came to that conclusion?” _

_ “The killer was purposefully, and intentionally cruel. They know their wrath is excessive, and that it’s a sin. They want to cleanse the world of the same evil they have inside themself. It’s a very common thing to find that someone hates in others what they see as a flaw in themself. It’s obvious when you look at the facts of the case. They brutally murdered these people, and displayed them to show that they are full of sin, in the killer’s mind.” _

_ “Fascinating. Now, you are not officially an agent with the FBI. you were just called in to consult on a few cases, and you were given temporary agent status. You’re actually just a teacher at Quantico. Why would Agent Jack Crawford risk having someone like you on a case when you do not have the clearance to be doing the work he has asked you to do?” _

_ “You would have to ask Jack why he made that decision, Freddie.” _

_ “But you can think like anyone, right? Why do you think he made it?” _

_ “It sounds like you just answered your own question, Lounds. I can think like anyone. That can be both a blessing and a curse, which is why I’m not an agent. I am only consulting for Agent Crawford because he asked. I don’t intend to be doing it for very long, but I like to help when I can.” _

_ “If you can think like anyone, shouldn’t that be a concern for anyone who knows you? If you start thinking like a killer, or think like killers too often, don’t you think you might get lost in there? Or might you start to enjoy violence the same way they do?” _

_ “I build forts, Miss Lounds. There is a place for everyone, and everyone is in their place. The people I study to not affect my own thoughts or personality.” _

_ “Then your acquaintance with a renowned psychiatrist is not due to any concerns about your mental stability and capability to perform the work Crawford asks of you?” _

_ “Everyone who works in the FBI, especially agents who work on cases, have psychiatric evaluations to ensure they are able to do what they need to.” _

_ “And this psychiatrist that gave you your evaluation is known for having had several spouses, who have all died while married to him. Three of them were men, which makes me wonder. Do you think the results of your evaluation might have been affected by some interest he might have in you?” _

_ “With my ability to think like anyone, I can assure you that he would not allow that. If it would skew the results in any way, he would have referred me to a different psychiatrist for the evaluation. That being said, it is pure conjecture and guesswork to say that there is anything to suggest he has an interest in me in the first place.” _

_ “But you don’t deny that he might? You can think like anyone, Graham. Tell me if your shrink might be attracted to you.” _

_ “I will not.” _

_ “Fine. The shrink has a kid-” _

_ “If you bring that child into this mess you call a profession, I will not hesitate to make your life miserable.” _

_ “... so you care about this kid a lot. Have you met him and talked to him?” _

_ “I think we’re done here. Goodbye.” _

_ “Thank you for your time, agent Graham.” _

_ “Don’t mention it.” _

It had been a rather short interview, but it had done enough damage. Will had verbally threatened Freddie, and she had recorded the entire thing. He had known she was recording, but she had been pushing her luck the entire time. The moment she had started trying to drag Myko into it, he had run out of patience.

Myko didn’t deserve to have her poking around in his life.

Freddie had predictably twisted things around to suit her own purposes, meaning she questioned his sanity and his competence as an agent of the FBI. She had also waited to publish the article until after she had stalked them both a bit and had caught pictures of them in each other’s company. She had used the pictures as evidence that he had not been entirely honest about their relationship being only professional.

The only thing that made Will somewhat satisfied with her article was that she did not talk about Myko, nor had she posted any pictures including him to go with it. She had apparently recognized the deadly serious tone he had used with his threat and decided it wasn’t worth it yet. He knew she wouldn’t hesitate if she thought it would boost her ratings, but children must not be much of a selling point. 

Will considered it all as he cast a line. 

He wondered if Myko would ever want to come fishing with him. The boy seemed interested in trying out new things, and Will couldn’t imagine Hannibal ever taking him fishing. The man was too invested in his image, even in the eyes of his son. 

Even if Myko wouldn’t want to actually fish, Will could imagine him sitting on the shore with a book in his hands, the sun reflecting gold off his hair. He would be able to enjoy it, Will was sure. It would be nice if he could convince both of them to come out with him sometime. Maybe he would try. 

Will’s phone rang, and he picked it up, keeping one hand on his fishing pole while he tucked the phone under his ear.

“Graham.”

“Hello, Will.”

Will smiled.

“Hey, Hannibal. What can I do for you?”

There was a long sigh on the other end, and Will raised his eyebrows. He had never heard the man sigh like that, though his expression had said the same thing a few times after Myko had been particularly revealing about his emotions.

“I’m afraid I am being called out of town on some urgent business,” Hannibal said, and he sounded genuinely regretful, “We shall have to reschedule our dinner.”

Will shrugged despite the fact that Hannibal couldn’t see it.

“Alright. Thanks for calling. What are the plans for Myko?” he asked.

“I am currently working on finding a suitable caretaker, though it is extremely last minute and there are not many available at this time,” Hannibal said, sounding tired.

“I’ll do it,” Will said on impulse.

There was a pause, and Will wondered what sort of expression might be on Hannibal’s face right then.

“Will,” Hannibal said, hesitating, “are you certain?”

Will laughed. 

“Aww. I thought you said I’m good with kids,” he teased, “but I’m serious. He likes me well enough, and I like him. I don’t have anything stopping me from watching him as long as it’s not inconvenient to you or you don’t want me to. I’m probably way cheaper than any babysitter you would consider too.”

Hannibal huffed a soft laugh, and Will could almost feel his exhausted relief through the phone. 

“I’ll ask him if that would be acceptable, if you could wait one moment,” Hannibal said.

“Of course. Make sure he knows I have seven dogs,” Will replied, and heard Hannibal put down his phone in order to ask Myko. 

Will actually wondered if Myko would agree to it. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Myko liked him, but sometimes kids decided they didn’t want to be looked after by someone even if they liked them. They were unpredictable sometimes.

Hannibal returned, and there was a smile in his voice when he spoke.

“He has already run to his room to prepare. Is there somewhere you would like to meet in order for me to hand him off to you?”

Will grinned.

“I’m out fishing right now, but I’m near a park that’s actually closer to your place than my house is. I’ll text you the address, unless it’s too out of your way. I could probably come and get him, but it’ll take a bit to get there.”

“I’ll drive him to the park,” Hannibal replied, “are you absolutely sure you are prepared for this?”

Will laughed. 

“Like I said, I have seven dogs. He’ll fit right in,” Will said, “don’t worry. It’s not like I’m going to ruin your child. Trust me.”

Hannibal hummed.

“I trust you very much Will,” he replied, “and I am very grateful to you for this. I shall have to find a way to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, reeling in his line and heading to shore to pack up and head to the park, “just go do what you have to do, and we’ll be fine.”

“Very well. See you soon, Will.”

“See ya.”

\---

Myko jumped out of the Bentley and ran over to where Will was standing, still in his waders and holding his tackle box. 

“You have seven dogs?” he asked excitedly.

Will grinned and nodded, watching as Hannibal took a suitcase from the trunk of the car.

“I sure do. They’ll love to meet you. They like kids a lot, but they don’t see many. Do you like dogs?”

Myko nodded vigorously.

“Father says they are messy and difficult, and he does not like the hair getting on his suits, but I have always wanted one. What kinds do you have?” Myko rambled happily.

Will crouched down and smiled up as Hannibal walked over.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Will whispered conspiratorially, “Your dad is a fuss-bucket, but he doesn’t complain when I’m covered in dog hair. He just likes to tell people he’s super tidy. Anyway, I have all kinds of dogs. Big, small, hairy, jumpy. They were all strays or lost when I found them.”

Mykos eyes grew wide with even more excitement and he nearly vibrated with energy as Will stood up to greet Hannibal.

“Once again, thank you for offering to watch him,” Hannibal said, a little breathless in light of his son's overpowering energy.

Will shook his head and kissed Hannibal.

“I told you it’s not a problem. Any allergies or diet requirements I need to know about? How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

Hannibal shook his head.

“Myko is quite capable of telling you if he does not like something. He has no allergies that we have discovered thus far. I should only be a day. Two at most. I am very sorry to have this happen so last moment.”

Will sighed, smiling.

“You are very insecure, Doctor Lecter. I don’t suppose most people ever find that out about you. You hide behind your tailored suits and fancy food and look to all the world like the most put together and comfortable man,” Will said.

Hannibal’s breathing hitched, and he pulled Will into a kiss.

“I’m sure I could come up with a brilliant response, but it would take far too long for us to have that conversation at this moment. I must be on my way, love. We will talk when I return,” Hannibal said, and there was clear affection in his eyes as he made the promise.

Will nodded.

“Go, and be safe as you travel. If you end up in a hospital, I will kill you.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Then he turned to Myko, “Mykolas. You must be on your best behavior for Will. Remember what I told you about the game. This is very important.”

Myko nodded solemnly. His green eyes met those of his dad and an understanding passed between them. Will wondered if he would be on his best behavior like he had been last time Hannibal asked him to be, or if he would actually refrain from talking all about his dad’s secrets. Either way, Will was looking forward to spending some time with the kid.

Hannibal bid them both goodbye and went back to the Bentley. They both waved to him as he drove away, and then Will got down to business.

“Myko,” he said seriously, “I want you to be perfectly honest with me about something.”

Myko looked up at him with a somber expression and nodded, crossing his heart theatrically.

“Have you ever had a happy meal?”

A grin split the boy’s face. A wicked grin that could only mean he knew exactly how much his dad would hate that idea.

“No,” he answered, “Father always makes my food, or we go to really fancy places when people invite us. Most of the time I just eat food that father prepares, though. Are you going to get me one?”

Will smiled and shrugged.

“Your dad didn’t say I couldn’t and it’s one of those things every kid should have the chance to do at least once. You’re almost old enough that parents would stop getting them for you too. This might be your only chance. If you hate the food, I’ll scrounge something up for us, but I thought we’d give it a go.”

Myko pumped his fist in the air in a way Will thought was hilariously ordinary. Myko was more like normal kids than first impressions gave off. He was probably used to making only first impressions, and then never having to speak to or see the same adult again when it came to the company of his father. 

“And then we will go to your house, and I will meet all of your dogs, right?” he asked.

Will nodded and picked up the suitcase along with his fishing supplies.

“Yup. Come on. Let’s get on the road before we grow old from standing and talking so much. Does your dad let you ride in the front seat?”

Myko gave Will a sideways glance, like he was trying to figure out which answer would get him the result he wanted.

“No,” he said carefully, “Father says I cannot until I have turned twelve, and that I am too small now regardless.”

Will nodded, then shrugged.

“I’ll let you ride up front in my car, because it’s not gonna get your clothes as dirty and I think it’ll be funny to see your dad’s face when he finds out all the things I let you get away with. Just don’t pester me while I’m driving, ‘cause that could make me distracted. I’m a safe driver, but I have my limits.”

Myko was grinning from ear to ear, and Will felt a swell of affection for the boy. He felt almost like he was the indulgent uncle, who would always end up being the kid’s favorite. 

“Hop in,” Will bid Myko when they got to his old car. He lifted the stuff into the backseat as Myko climbed in and fastened his seat belt.

Then they were off, in search of the nearest McDonalds in order to ruin Myko’s refined palette with a good old fashioned cheeseburger and fries. Will idly wondered what the toy would be, and what Myko would think of that part of the meal. He wondered what kinds of toys the boy had anyway. It was one of those things he had a hard time imagining in Hannibal’s context.


	10. 10

“What kind of music is that?” Myko asked, playing with the toy and putting another fry into his mouth. 

The toy was an action figure that came with a small skateboard, and Myko seemed relatively happy with it. Will didn’t know if he had any thoughts about the quality of it aside from that it was entertaining.

“Cajun,” Will answered, nodding to the CD player, “I used to live in Louisiana, and this is the best of the best in my opinion.”

Myko furrowed his brow and concentrated, listening intently to the words of the song.

“Is it in French?” he asked, sounding doubtful.

Will grinned.

“Yep. A Cajun accent is a mite different from an actual French one, though. It’s basically the same words, but with that southern drawl.”

Will sang along for a few lines to demonstrate. 

Hannibal would despair at all the things Will was doing with Myko. Ruining his palette, letting him ride up front, and now maybe ruining his accent when he spoke French. Will couldn’t wait to see his face when he realized.

“They are just singing about eating chicken,” Myko said after a moment, “and the accent truly is atrocious.”

Will laughed.

“I guess so,” he agreed, “but it means more. It’s a celebration of the plenty they are able to find in the bayous. They will even eat the monsters and unpleasant creatures they find. They’ll not starve, and that’s worth singing about.”

Myko hummed. He continued to listen to the music, and he seemed to be enjoying it despite the terrible Cajun accent. Will enjoyed this kind of music, even knowing how it made him look to others. 

Will rolled down the windows and let the wind blow through their hair. Myko smiled and shook his head happily, watching as the scenery changed and they got closer to Will’s house. When the house came into view across the field, Myko gasped.

“Is that it?” he asked, pointing out the window at the house.

Will nodded.

“Yep. Home sweet home. It’s nothing grand, but it suits me just fine.”

Myko stared at the house as if he was trying to memorize every detail. He looked almost enchanted, and Will chuckled under his breath. Kids thought anything other than what they were used to was novel and magical. 

“It’s like a fairy tale,” Myko said as they pulled up, “like a fairy cottage in the woods. It’s somewhere I would find in a book that has lots of nice things happen in it.”

Will laughed.

“Does that mean you like it?” he asked. Myko nodded. “Well, I’m glad. I’ve never heard anyone say that about my house. I’ve had a few people tell me it’s a “nice, charming farmhouse”, but that’s the best anyone has said until now. It’s not very neat on the inside, to be honest. It reflects my mental state, I suppose. I’m sure Hannibal would have something obscenely philosophical to add to that.”

Myko nodded, turning to face Will with a serious expression.

“The order of your private spaces may not directly reflect the state of your mind, but perhaps creates a contrast for it,” Myko stated, even managing to recreate Hannibal’s accent nearly perfectly.

Will burst into laughter, switching off the car and nearly crying from how hard he was laughing. It was like a tiny Hannibal had just spoken to him, and the image of Hannibal as a child was so adorable he could hardly contain it.

“That was amazing, Myko,” Will said once he could breathe again, “You sounded just like him. You even knew what he would say.”

Myko was beaming from ear to ear at the praise, and Will momentarily worried the child would have an ego too big for his tiny body to contain, going by what he knew of Hannibal and himself. 

Will decided it wasn’t his job to keep the kid humble, and he could do what he wanted. If Hannibal didn’t like how he was influencing Myko, he would have to say something or undo it himself. Will had not been given any instructions on the subject. 

“Alright. Let’s get inside. The dogs are probably going crazy, knowing I’m out here and I haven’t come in yet.”

Myko’s fingers fumbled as he hurried to unbuckle, and he all but jumped from the car once he had the door opened. He ran right up the front steps of the house and bounced on his heels as he waited for Will. Will pulled all their things from the back seat and lugged it all up the steps before he opened the door. 

Myko was immediately bowled over by Max and Harley, who were chasing Buster and Zoe. The others were close behind, though a bit more subdued in their excitement. Myko was laughing, and Will was glad he didn’t seem to be hurt. He knew the dogs wouldn’t be too rough with him, and they had just been too excited to get out of the house. 

“I’ll put your stuff away and get the extra bed ready for you,” Will told Myko as he went into the house.

Myko was still on the porch, laughing as Jack licked at his face. Ellie was trying to steal one of his shoes, as far as Will could tell. Winston was waiting patiently at Will’s heels to follow him through the house.

Will left the door open for both the dogs and Myko to go through as they pleased. Will dropped his fishing gear in the main room next to his own bed, and headed up the stairs to the basically abandoned spare bedroom. He had an extra bed for reasons he could not fathom. He supposed fate had just landed him with an extra bed so he could watch Myko. He had the sneaking suspicion Hannibal would be genuinely angry if he found out his son had been asked to sleep on a couch while in Will’s care.

Will got some clean sheets from a closet and made the bed. He made sure everything was ready and in acceptable condition for the use of a human. When he was satisfied, he set Myko’s things on the bed and headed back downstairs to drag the boy out of Harley’s mouth if he had to. Anything was possible when that child was involved.

As it turns out, none of the dogs were trying to eat Myko when Will walked back out front. That was good, but Will was still stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what was going on.

Myko had somehow gotten all of the dogs to sit perfectly in line. They were obediently waiting as he walked to each of them and read the tag on each collar. He said the name there with quiet seriousness and petted the dog before moving on to the next one. All the dogs seemed content and happy to do what the strange boy was asking of them. 

Will watched from the porch, and Winston trotted down to sit with the others. Myko grinned at him and scratched him between the ears as he read the tag. Will was glad he had gotten around to getting Winston a tag before Myko came over. 

“You’re a good boy, Winston,” Will heard Myko say, “you like to protect your master, right? You stayed right by Will’s side. Very good boy.”

Will whistled sharply, and the dogs all bounded back inside. Myko looked up and grinned at Will before he followed the dog’s example and hopped up the steps so he was standing with Will. 

“So, I see you spent a minute getting to know the dogs,” Will said, waving to have Myko follow him into the house, “I hope you have a good memory, because there’s gonna be a quiz later.”

Myko furrowed his brow in concentration.

“I think I know them all,” he said hesitantly.

Will chuckled, “It was a joke, Myko, but I have very faith you know your stuff. You do really well at things as far as I can tell.”

Myko sighed in relief at the news he wouldn’t actually be tested on his memory. He looked around Will’s house like it was one more part of the fairytale he claimed the setting belonged in. His eyes were wide, and his smile never faltered.

“Want to help me feed the dogs?” Will asked, heading to the kitchen.

Myko nodded and skipped into the kitchen behind him. Will got to work making the food while Myko made sure there wasn’t anything in any of the dishes already. The boy was determined to carry out the task to perfection, regardless of the fact that it really didn’t take much skill. Will finished and handed the pot of food to Myko with a scoop.

“Put one of those into each dish, and don’t let any of them get close until you’re done. I’ll be right here to help if you need it,” Will said, but he knew Myko was absolutely set on not needing it.

Will watched as Myko precisely measured out each scoop of food and poured it into the bowls. Buster tried to nose his way into one of the bowls when Myko was nearly done, but the boy clicked his tongue sharply and the dog backed down. 

Myko was really good with the dogs, and it made Will smile. 

He wondered if Hannibal would compromise on his pet policy if he saw how much Myko enjoyed them. Maybe Will would have to use some of his own tactics to convince the man. Will would even offer to let Myko have one of his own, already trained, dogs. They already liked him, and Will would be happy to see one of them go to such a good home. He knew Hannibal wouldn’t be unpleasant to a dog, no matter how much he claimed to not want one in his home.

“Done,” Myko said, standing back to admire his work. The dishes each had exactly the amount of food in them, and none of them had been touched by any of the dogs.

Will nodded, taking the pot from Myko and setting it back on the stove.

“Alright,” Will said, “watch this.”

Will whistled sharply, and the dogs all ran in. They each went to their own bowl and started eating. Buster ate all his food far too quickly, and tried to sneak some from Ellie’s dish. Will said his name softly, and Buster looked up at him with an expression of one who had obviously been caught. He didn’t try to take food from any other bowls after that. He just grumbled softly and walked into the main room and plopped down into his bed.

Myko smiled as he watched the dogs eat. 

Will turned to the boy and waited for him to notice. When Myko met his eyes, Will waved for him to follow, and started leading him through the house.

“There’s the bathroom,” Will said, gesturing to a door, “and the spare bedroom is up the stairs here.”

They made their way up the stairs and Will showed Myko into the room, and watched as the boy looked around.

“It’s not fancy, but there’s a bed, and a window that looks over the yard,” Will offered, “Tonight, if you need anything, I’ll be down in the main room. That’s where I sleep, in case you hadn’t picked that up. Don’t worry about waking me up. I don’t sleep well anyway.”

\---

“Can one of the dogs sleep in the bed with me?” Myko asked, standing at the bottom of the stairs in his pajamas. His teeth had been brushed, and he had washed his face. Will suspected he had also done some more nightly rituals, but he didn’t feel any desire to pry.

“Sure,” Will said, trying to think of which one would be best for the task, “How ‘bout Winston?”

Winston was really the most well behaved, despite being the newest member of the pack. He wouldn’t be a troublesome bed mate, and he was soft and friendly too. 

Myko shook his head.

“No. I would like Ellie. Winston is yours.”

Will laughed softly. Technically, they were all his. He wasn’t sure what distinction Myko was making between the two dogs, but he nodded. He called to Ellie and signaled for her to go with Myko. 

Myko smiled.

“Thank you, Will,” he said and the pair walked up the stairs. When they were at the top, Myko turned back. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Myko,” Will called back, feeling oddly displaced. It was a bit surreal to have anyone else in his home while he went to bed. Adding to the feeling was the fact that Myko was a child. 

Will had always thought he would be a good dad, but the problem he had was that he hadn’t met anyone he wanted to have a family with. No one had complimented his personality in a way that made him feel like they would be good parents together. Then there was the problem with his genetics. He wasn’t sure his empathy disorder, or any of his other problems, could be attributed to his genes, but he had worried about handing them down to his potential children if he ever had any. 

Will heard Myko talking quietly to Ellie, and he couldn’t fight the wave of affection he felt for the boy. 

Will sighed, and Winston lifted his head curiously at the sound. He looked up at Will as if waiting for him to explain, but Will just shook his head. Winston put his head back down on his front paws, but watched as Will got into bed for the night. 

\---

Hannibal had been gone for two days. 

Will was certain Myko’s father was going to give him a stern talking to once the boy recounted all of their adventures. He felt trepidation, but also anticipation for the inevitable reprimand. He had never seen Hannibal very upset, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

Myko had a key to Hannibal’s big, fancy house, but Will didn’t know what they would do if they went there ahead of Hannibal. He wouldn’t dare touch anything in the kitchen, even though the idea of having Hannibal come home to Myko holding a fresh plate of cookies or something was terribly tempting. He doubted there was any cleaning up they would be able to do as a surprise for the man either. 

Hannibal was a very hard man to treat, it was turning out. 

Will found a park near Hannibal’s home and they decided to wait there until the man returned. 

Will plopped down in the grass and found some clovers. He gestured for Myko to sit with him, and then he began teaching him how to make chains and crowns from the flexible stems. Will was good at this kind of thing, knowing a good amount about tying knots in various things. He hadn’t been born with deft fingers, but he had trained them over time to do even the most delicate tasks.

Myko’s fingers were slender, reminding Will of a violin player he had known in college. They were the type of fingers meant to create beauty, whether that be through music or a more visual art. Will wondered if Myko played any instruments.

“I’m pleased to find you are teaching my son to appreciate the beauty of creation.”

The pair looked up at Hannibal, who had somehow managed to walk right up to them without either of them noticing. He was smiling fondly down at them and Myko jumped up right away to hug him.

Hannibal crouched down to his son’s level for the hug, and Will smiled.

There were only a few small things that gave away the fact that Hannibal had been travelling, and was tired. A wrinkle in his suit jacket, a few hairs out of place, the shadows of sleep loss under his eyes. He was very well put together, and no one but Will or Myko would notice the hints. 

“Have you been on your best behavior, mažylis?”Hannibal asked Myko.

Myko made a face at the word his father had used, but nodded.

“I was. I enjoyed staying with Will immensely, and did not cause any problems for him,” Myko answered, as if he had rehearsed it.

Hannibal nodded, then turned to Will.

“Care to corroborate his alibi, Agent Graham?” he asked.

Will hummed, looking at Myko doubtfully. 

“I don’t know,” he said, “I’m pretty sure he snuck treats to the dogs after I told him not to.”

Myko’s jaw dropped, clearly shocked that he was being ratted out on for something he hadn’t even known Will had noticed. 

Will grinned, then, and shook his head.

“Just kidding. He was the perfect house guest. He even helped me take care of the dogs, though I should warn you, he is very much in love with the idea of having one of his own.”

Myko sighed in relief, turning to see how his father would react.

“I feared as much,” Hannibal said, giving his own dramatic sigh, “Well, as long as you were polite and well behaved, I suppose there is nothing I need punish you for. Shall we go home and have lunch?”

Myko nodded, and Hannibal turned to Will, extending the invitation to him with a raised eyebrow.

“I can’t say no to your cooking, Doctor,” Will said, heaving up off the grass, “so I’m all in for lunch. I have to help Myko get his things out of my car anyway. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal basically called Myko "youngster". At least I think so. I don't actually know Lithuanian. Don't hate me if I'm wrong.


	11. 11

“You know, Myko is really good with dogs. He should spend more time around them, and develop it as a skill,” Will said.

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully as he prepared some of the ingredients for their lunch. Will was helping him, despite the man’s weak protest. He was too tired from traveling to actually refuse Will’s help, and Will knew it.

“I know you probably want Myko to become, like, a doctor or something when he grows up, but you should think about it at least.”

Hannibal looked up at Will and raised an eyebrow.

“I am not a parent who has a fixed idea of what my child is allowed to become,” he said, “I will support Mykolas in any endeavor he chooses to pursue. Perhaps I am proud to think so, but I believe Mykolas has the potential to be a great many things. I would not begrudge him the chance to find his calling in life.”

Will grinned.

“I’m glad you’re so supportive of him,” Will said, then leaned over the island and kissed Hannibal softly, “does that mean you might let him get a dog if he asks?”

Hannibal sighed.

“You are conspiring with my son against me,” he said, though he didn’t sound too upset about it, “Don’t expect the damage to one of his shoes has gone unnoticed.”

Will shrugged.

“It’s mostly just drool. Ellie was excited to meet him. It’s not ruined.”

Hannibal shook his head softly.

“We can have this conversation once I am no longer exhausted from travel,” he said, “and once I have some proper food in my belly.”

Will nodded and watched as Hannibal put the last touches on their plates. 

“I’ll get Myko,” he offered, and Hannibal nodded gratefully to him.

Hannibal headed to the dining room while Will went towards Myko’s room. He knocked lightly on the door and called out for him.

“Myko, lunch is ready.”

The door opened, and Myko smiled up at him. He had his action figure clutched in one of his small hands, and his hair was adorably ruffled in a way that only looked cute on children. 

“Are you going to stay for after lunch, and maybe dinner, and maybe you’ll stay and be here for breakfast too?” Myko asked, skipping happily down the hall at Will’s side.

Will chuckled softly.

“Well, anything’s possible. We’ll have to see what your dad thinks, though. I know he’s awful tired. He might not be up to entertaining company, even if that company is me.”

Myko hummed in reply, but didn’t seem concerned about it. He just continued his merry jaunt into the dining room and took his seat.

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal said, gesturing for him to sit as well, “do you have plans for the rest of the day? I expect you would have said something if Jack had called you in.”

Will nodded, taking a bite.

“Yeah. He hasn’t called me. I don’t really have any plans at the moment,” he confirmed.

Hannibal smiled lightly, taking his own bite and nodding softly.

“ Moi je vas jamais crever la faim,” Myko said, parroting a line from one of the cajun songs Will and he had listened to. Accent and all.

Will blinked and looked up at the boy, who was casually eating his lunch. Then, he looked to Hannibal, who seemed frozen in the middle of chewing. He was just staring at his son with an air of bewilderment that Will was sure was completely new for him to be experiencing. Will wasn’t sure what to expect next, so he held his breath and waited for reality to hit.

“Pardon?” Hannibal said at last, having decided to swallow his food.

Myko shrugged.

“Moi je vas jamais crever la faim,” he repeated, as if it were nothing one wouldn’t expect a child to say during lunch in Baltimore.

Will cleared his throat, feeling his face heat up a bit.

“Uh, that’s my fault,” he said, feeling sheepish despite how purposeful the corruption had been when it happened, “I listen to cajun music. That’s a part of one of the songs. We listened to it in the car.”

Hannibal slowly turned to focus on Will, his expression peculiarly blank. Will was still unsure how he was going to react. Everything seemed to be slowly processing in his mind, and Will was sure the exhaustion was not helping in the least.

“You bought my son fast food, let him ride in the front seat of a vehicle, and corrupted his French,” Hannibal surmised, his voice void of any intonation. 

He was starting to scare Will a bit, honestly. Most people would have made up their mind about how to take the news by now. The lack of reaction, and anticipation of one, was worse than however he may react in the long term.

“Uh, yeah,” Will said, slouching a bit in his seat. 

Hannibal had worked hard to help his son be refined and intelligent. Will suddenly felt like he was trespassing. Like he had shown up with muddy boots and waltzed all over Hannibal’s expensive flooring. 

Will had not anticipated this.

“And he let Ellie sleep in the bed with me!” Myko added cheerfully, either unaware of the tension building, or electing to ignore it.

Will felt his face heat up more, and he knew he would be completely red at this point. He poked at his food and let some of his hair fall over his face so he felt like he could hide from the intensity of Hannibal’s gaze.

Hannibal blinked, and suddenly he was back to normal. He took another bite of his food as if nothing had happened. 

“Will, I must tell you I find it terribly endearing when you blush like that,” Hannibal stated.

Will nearly gaped at the man, but managed to keep his mouth shut. He didn’t need to embarrass himself any further this evening. 

“You must stay for dinner,” Hannibal continued, “if not because you wish to, then for penance. I do not know how I shall undo the damage of your influence on my son.”

Will sighed softly, sure he wasn’t out of the woods yet, but fairly certain a dinner invitation was a good sign.

“Okay,” he managed, then took another bite from his own plate to avoid having to say any more.

Myko grinned. He gave Will a look that told him he had wanted that to happen exactly the way it did. Will wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed or impressed. The kid definitely knew what he was doing, but Will was in the dark even when he thought he had figured their game out.

“Father, I really enjoyed spending a few days with Will,” Myko said, “he is much smarter than most people you introduce to me. Any question I could think of, he had an answer. Even when I asked him something he did not know, he would say as much and then we would look it up. He never became angry with me for asking anything. I like him much more than most adults I meet.”

Will smiled softly. He was glad to hear everything he did to be a good adult presence was working. He was never sure how children would remember him, if at all, and he didn’t typically spend enough time around them to find out. He remembered all too well how he had felt toward adults when he had been young.

“I am very pleased to hear that,” Hannibal said, and he really did sound happy, “I find Will’s company to be of better quality than that of most acquaintances as well. I dare say I have not met anyone like him before in my life.”

Hannibal turned to Will, then, and his eyes were sparkling with affectionate mischief. He was up to something, but Will had no idea what it was.

“Your ability to surprise me is the least of what makes you unique, Will,” Hannibal said, “and I do hope you never stop, despite how my son has been affected. I suppose it could have been worse.”

Will smiled, relaxing. He didn’t feel like he was in any danger. Hannibal would find a way to “punish” him, but he was not angry.

“I actually thought it would be beneficial to him to have a chance to break the rules,” Will offered, “He strikes me as the kind of kid who never breaks the rules, but he was willing to with my full endorsement. It’ll be good for him. Little rebellions like that build character, and help him not be a complete outsider when he gets older.”

Hannibal hummed.

“As much as I must agree with that because of my own profession and education on the matter, it would not be rebellion if I were to endorse the actions as well,” he replied.

Will laughed.

“Fair enough. So, are you giving more thought to him getting a dog?” Will prodded.

Hannibal gave a long suffering sigh.

“We agreed to speak of it after I had rested properly,” he reminded Will.

Will shrugged.

“Just thought I’d ask. It’s not every day I get to talk to you with the advantage of a good night's sleep when you haven’t had one. I never have the advantage. You can’t blame me for trying.”

Hannibal smiled.

“I find you have more advantages than you think,” he said, “but I most certainly _can_ blame you for being so manipulative in my own home.”

Will winked at Myko, but pouted at Hannibal in the most dramatic way he could.

\---

“Mykolas is securely in bed,” Hannibal declared, joining Will in the study once more, “would you like some wine?”

Will huffed a laugh.

“Are you trying to compromise me, so I can’t drive home tonight?” he asked, “regardless, yes.”

Hannibal smiled and poured them each a glass.

“It would only be fair to return the manipulation,” he replied, “a reciprocal gesture.”

Will hummed and took a sip of the red liquid. 

“You’re not really upset about the things I let Myko get away with,” Will observed as Hannibal took a seat on the couch.

Hannibal waved for Will to come closer, and he did. He stood with his knees brushing Hannibal’s, and Hannibal hooked a few fingers of his free hand into one of Will’s belt loops. He tugged gently, pulling Will closer.

“I’m completely incensed,” He said, his voice low, “outraged. Furious. Livid. Entirely enraged. And yet, I have never been more in love with anyone than I am with you in this moment.”

Hannibal set his glass on the side table and pulled Will down onto the couch with him. Will had to be careful not to spill his own wine, but he decided he might not have even needed the alcohol. He could get drunk on Hannibal’s kisses, and it would probably be better for his liver.

Will hummed, shifting and setting his wine aside.

“Never?” he asked, emboldened by the confession.

Hannibal pressed a line of kisses to his neck, humming as he did. 

“Are you requesting I denounce all my previous spouses?” he asked in return.

Will knew he was teasing, but he also felt in his gut that Hannibal would if he asked him to. It was a terrifying power, and one he didn’t want to hold. He would never ask Hannibal to say he didn’t love the people he had lost. That would be cruel, and Will would hate himself for it.

“No,” Will answered, letting his hands clutch at Hannibal’s suit, “I know you have loved before. I just don’t care as much as I thought I would.”

Hannibal moved his hands to tangle them into Will’s hair. He pulled Will into a deep kiss, and Will almost believed the man truly loved him. He knew Hannibal had intense affection for him, and Will felt the same, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it was love. It just didn’t make any logical sense to him.

“Stay the night,” Hannibal said, pulling back and looking Will in the eye.

Will raised his eyebrows at the man.

“Is that another condition of my punishment for corruption of the youth?” he asked.

“If that is the only reason you will agree to it, absolutely,” Hannibal replied.

Will hummed.

“I’m not sure the punishment is going to be very effective at discouraging the behavior in the future, Doctor Lecter,” he remarked.

Hannibal pulled Will up so they were standing in front of the couch. He plucked his wine from the table and downed it all in a manner wholly unlike him. Will did the same, deciding he already had compromised decision making. It wouldn’t be safe for him to drive home in that condition.

“I have a rather unorthodox approach to my craft at the best of times,” Hannibal retorted with a sly smile.

Will hummed happily, shaking his head.

“Let me call the dogsitter,” he said, “I’ve been gone too long already.”

Hannibal agreed, leaving to take their glasses to the kitchen. 

Will made the call, apologizing for the late notice and promising to pay them extra for the inconvenience. By the time he was done, Hannibal had returned and was clearly anxious to get them both to the bedroom. He wrapped his arms around Will from behind and laid his chin on Will’s shoulder as Will wrapped up the call.

“There are no words to describe your brilliance,” Hannibal said, pressing a kiss to Will’s neck.

Will huffed a laugh.

“Even when I’m a terrible influence on your kid?” he asked.

Hannibal hummed.

“You are causing changes in us both,” he confessed, “but I find myself more delighted than anything at the idea. I have never considered myself capable of being changed by another.”

Will shook his head, and they made their way to bed.

“You really need to sleep, Hannibal. You’re exhausted. I can tell, even though you are trying to hide it. Rest. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Hannibal looked at Will with glassy eyes from exhaustion and alcohol.

“You are not lying,” Hannibal said softly, almost as if he was afraid of the answer.

Will shook his head again, pushing the man into the bed and making him lie down. Hannibal really did need sleep. 

“I don’t like lies very much,” he replied, “and I don’t lie unless I have to. I don’t lie to people I care about, either.”

Hannibal fell asleep quickly, proving Will’s point. Will slid into bed next to him, smiling at how childish the man could be sometimes. 

He supposed it was something they shared. He hadn’t exactly been completely mature in the last few days either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From what I could find, the line Myko repeats means something like "I'll never be hungry again,"  
> Again, I do not actually know French. It's from a song by the lost Bayou Ramblers. Vermillionaire, I believe.


	12. 12

Jack’s call came at an ungodly hour in the morning.

Will snatched his phone up quickly, praying it hadn’t woken Hannibal as he answered and slipped from the bed.

“Graham,” he said, knowing he sounded like he had just woken up, but not caring. He slipped out of the room and pulled the door closed as quietly as possible.

“Will. I need you out here now,” Jack demanded, “I’ve got another Ripper scene, and I need you and Lecter to get over here to tell me what it means.”

Will sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“I’m on my way, Jack,” he said, “but don’t you dare call Lecter right now. He just got home from traveling, and he needs two things. Rest, and time with his son. I’ll never forgive you if you wake him up and drag him away from his bed for this, I will never come in for another case so long as I live.”

Jack was silent for a moment.

“Will. Are you and Hannibal seeing each other?” he asked.

Will huffed, leaning against the wall next to the bedroom door. He smiled to himself, but shook his head. He was honestly more amused than annoyed.

“Does that matter, Jack?” he asked, “is it any of your business what either of us do off the clock? I’m pretty sure both of us are doing the work as a favor to you, so I’m not sure you want to make either of us upset by getting into our business.”

Jack was silent once again, and Will didn’t even care if he was angry. He had called in the morning, and Will didn’t have the energy or the caffeine to bother being polite. Jack would have to learn to keep the personal questions to himself, or at least ask when he was sure Will was in a good mood.

“Fine. Just get over here. I’ll send you the address.”

The line went dead, and Will sighed heavily. He tipped his head back and let it tap the wall. His phone chimed to let him know he had Jack’s text, and he pushed off the wall and slowly opened the door.

Hannibal was still lying down in the bed, and Will allowed himself to breathe softly. He started to cross the room to retrieve his clothes, but Hannibal’s eyes opened and fixed on him. They seemed to shine red in the low light, and Will almost jumped at the sight.

“Jack needs your imagination again,” Hannibal surmised, his voice low from sleep as well.

Will nodded.

“It’s another Ripper kill. I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can, if I’m still welcome,” Will replied, feeling guilty for having to leave when they both wished he didn’t.

Hannibal smiled and sat up in bed a bit.

“You are always welcome here, Will,” he promised, “and I suspect Jack will be calling me in as well, if it is the Ripper. I should begin looking to compensate someone for watching Mykolas on short notice, as you cannot.”

Will walked over to the bed, shaking his head with a soft smile.

“Jack won’t call you. You need more rest, and Myko missed you. You need to spend the morning sleeping, and then spending time with your son. Go back to sleep.”

Will kissed him, and pushed his hands on Hannibal’s shoulders to push him back down to the mattress. Hannibal went without complaint, though he did try to pull Will down to join him. Will smiled into the kiss and pulled away.

“I have to go,” he reprimanded, “I have no excuses, and Jack’s expecting me. I’ll keep the wolves at bay while you rest up. Then, I’ll come back with some fish for us to eat. I still owe you that dinner.”

Hannibal hummed, but released Will all the same. He fell back onto the pillows and closed his eyes with a contented smile. 

Will quickly dressed and got ready. He couldn’t help but glance longingly at the bed, where a gorgeous man lay alone and wanting his company. It was terribly tempting to call Jack back and tell him to forget it. He was going to go back to bed and never leave it again. 

Will closed the bedroom door quietly behind him, even though he knew Hannibal was probably still awake, and watching him go. Hannibal was funny like that.

Will went through a drive thru and bought some coffee, already anticipating the disappointment at tasing it and having it not be Hannibal’s. The man had really started to spoil Will by having better quality everything.

The building was old, and likely rarely used anymore. Will parked outside and took a long drink of the subpar coffee before he headed in.

Jack met him near the entrance, leading him through to the scene. He continued to glance at Will curiously, but Will refused to acknowledge it. Jack really didn’t have any claim to his or Hannibal’s secrets, and would just have to accept that.

The scene was beautiful. 

That was the thought that struck Will immediately upon seeing it. He would later think back and wonder at his own reaction, but in the moment he was nearly overcome with feeling. 

The woman was holding an apple that appeared to be gold. She cradled it gently in her hands, staring at it with what could only be described as affection. She was extremely thin, and Will guessed she had likely had an eating disorder while she had been alive. Her hair was pinned back with pearls woven through it, letting it fall in a decorative cascade down her back. The floor around her had been littered with dead and rotting plants, as if her presence pulled the life from them and left them wilted. Her bare feet peeked out from under her flowing gown, and Will felt like he was looking at some painting of a greek goddess. 

The sky was turning light outside as he looked, and the first rays of sun shone through the window to play over the features of the dead woman. 

Will wanted to run his hand over her hair, and touch her face, feeling as if he would find she was still warm. Maybe he would find some answers from the contact.

“What do you see?” Jack demanded.

Will sighed, being pulled from his thoughts and reminded that he absolutely should not touch anything.

“Can I get a clear scene?” he asked quietly, wanting just a moment alone with the image. 

Jack obliged without another question, and Will found his wish granted. He was alone with the woman, and the killer. He felt as if they had never left, being there to witness his observation, and having baited breath as they awaited his judgment. 

Will allowed himself to see through the killer’s eyes. Something he had not needed to do for a while. There was not usually anything terribly deep to a killer, and just seeing the kills could give him the connections he needed to make. 

But the Ripper was evolving, in some convoluted way that Will didn’t understand yet. He needed to understand, or else he couldn’t be of any use to the investigation.

Will breathed in, and the Ripper breathed out.

_ She was always seeking to be the most beautiful. She neglected herself and those around her, even turning to abuse when her appearance came into question. She cared for nothing but her beauty, and sought after the ultimate prize for her success.  _

_ It was a simple thing to promise her a treatment that would improve her physical appearance. She was continually desperate for just such an opportunity.  _

_ He tempted her, just as a serpent, and led her to her fall. A simple injection, likely one she had no reason to fear, and she became pliable. He would have been unhurried in his work, and as precise as an artist as he created the scene.  _

_ But there was another message in the scene. One that Will knew the Ripper had hidden there for him.  _

_ The pearls in her hair reminded him of the previous scene, by design. Pearls of truth, combined with a failure to attain pure beauty. A prize that was unreachable, but held in her hands.  _

Will fell away from the Ripper’s mindset like falling out of bed. He jumped slightly as he came back to himself, and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He let Jack and the team back in, and began to tell Jack what he saw.

“She wanted to be beautiful,” he supplied, “and she didn’t care what it took to get it. There’s a Greek myth having to do with a golden apple, which was credited for starting the Trojan war. The apple was to be given to the most beautiful of the goddesses. You won’t be able to find anything tying her to the killer, and she would have been easy to convince to take a medication or something to subdue her. She probably had at least one eating disorder, probably obsessive compulsive as well to some degree. The Ripper almost killed her as an act of mercy. She was slowly destroying her own body, and in her death he made her beautiful, giving her the apple as a symbol that she truly is. She doesn’t worry about being beautiful anymore, and he was able to use her to create his own art.”

Will watched as Jack grew more disenchanted with the scene. He was not hearing anything that would be very helpful in catching anyone. There were no real clues in there, and he was just waiting for something that could help them catch whoever was killing people in Jack’s realm.

“You’ll need to test the apple, I think,” Will said, unsure what he expected them to find there, “and she will be missing an organ or two. This was definitely the Ripper. I wish I knew more.”

Jack nodded.

“So do I,” he said, sounding less upset than Will would have expected. Maybe he was resigned to being disappointed at this point in the investigation.

\---

Will hadn’t told Jack that the scene had been meant for him again. He didn’t want to give the man another reason to worry about him, and he didn’t have any proof this time. There was nothing obvious that pointed to him being connected at all.

Also, he didn’t want to.

For reasons Will refused to analyze within himself, there was only one person he would feel comfortable discussing the scene with. 

He wanted Hannibal to know, and Will wanted to hear what Hannibal thought about it. Hannibal wasn’t frightened or put off by what Will had in his mind. He had expressed nothing but desire to know more when Will ventured into the morbid, and had met it with equal conversation. 

Hannibal was the only one who would understand, and not immediately become horrified by what Will saw.

Will stopped by his classroom before heading to the lab. He grabbed some papers he still needed to grade and made sure everything was in place for the next time he gave a lecture. He also just wanted to postpone the results he knew would meet him once he entered the labs.

Once he couldn’t justify wasting any more time, Will trudged to the labs. Beverly was there, apparently just waiting for him.

“Hey, Will,” she said, waving him over to look at something. She was standing at the table with the body, accompanied by Price and Zeller, but the pair were too distracted by something else to notice his entrance.

Will walked over and looked where she pointed.

The woman’s entire abdomen had been emptied of her organs. In their place, there was a glass terrarium. On a bed of pomegranate seeds lay a few calla lilies, and then a large black butterfly. Will had to stop his hands from trembling as he looked at it. He knew what it meant, and it frightened him more than anything ever had.

“Weird, huh?” Beverly said, unaware of his internal crisis, “and just wait until you hear what Jimmy found.”

Will looked up at the pair, and Price shook his head in bewilderment. He lifted what Zeller and he had been looking at. It was a slice of apple with golden skin. 

“First off, golden delicious, go figure,” he said, making Zeller huff a laugh, “but it’s also completely saturated with arsenic. Every bit of it. One bite of this fruit would kill anyone. I don’t even know how someone would do this if they wanted to. I’ve never seen it done before.”

Zeller held up a hand to postpone any comments. He peeled off the layer of gold from the slice and held it up as well.

“Real gold plating,” he said, “Also don’t know exactly how or why anyone would do this, but it really adds to the aesthetic, right?”

“That’s the reason,” Will stated flatly, turning back to look at the woman on the table, “Aesthetics are the primary concern of the Ripper. He wouldn’t see any reason to kill if he couldn’t create something beautiful with it. He’s an artist above all else.”

The two men fell silent at Will’s words, and Beverly studied him, likely recognizing his mind was over-full of thoughts at the moment. Some of them were bound to escape, and he had to be careful which ones they were.

“Look,” Will said, gesturing to the terrarium, “The lilies represent beauty. He could have used a rose, but they also represent love, and he didn’t want any confusion. The woman wanted to be beautiful. She fed herself and filled herself with nothing but thoughts of beauty. Butterflies can represent the soul leaving the body, and pomegranates have a lot of relations to death. Her journey to become truly beautiful regardless of the cost led her to die, but her death was beautiful to the Ripper.”

Zeller and Price, as usual, were more frightened than interested in Will’s conclusions. Beverly hummed in thought, looking over everything and seeming to agree with him. Not that it mattered if she agreed. He was the profiler. It was his word that really resulted in anything.

And Will had most definitely not given them all the details. There was so much more here, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it to them. They wouldn’t understand, and they would be horrified. Only Hannibal could be trusted not to react poorly to it all, and Will was aching to see him again.

Jack pushed Will to have a profile of the case written up, and Will obliged. Even though there wasn’t really anything new to be learned about the Ripper from what Will was willing to admit, he wrote up the profile without objection, and put off returning to Hannibal. Even though he wanted to see him more than anything, Will was still unsure what everything meant, and he couldn’t fully predict how Hannibal would react. Will trusted him not to react poorly, but he couldn’t be sure of anything.

Will went through the rest of his day in somewhat of a daze, not really noticing anything around him. His head was too full of the Ripper to process what was going on in the world apart from the case. 

It was somewhat like being a ghost, Will would realize later. He walked through the world, not really having much of an impact, but being able to witness and change it if he desired. He had no desire to, and was preoccupied with other happenings that most of the population was unaware of. 


	13. 13

Will had brought some fish over, and Hannibal had allowed him to help in the preparation of the meal. Will had been quieter and his head had been less clear. He knew Hannibal had noticed, but the man was taking care not to mention it. He likely concluded it had to do with work, and knew Will would talk when he was ready. 

Will was grateful Hannibal was so considerate. He didn’t know what would happen if Hannibal were to ask him about his behavior. He might end up talking about the entire case in front of Myko, which he certainly didn’t want to do. It was better for them to wait until they were not in the child’s company.

Myko, for his own part, followed his father’s example and didn’t prod Will about his distant behavior. He seemed to recognize that it would not do any good.

They just talked over dinner. About nothing, as far as Will could tell. He responded as if he were a part of the world at that point, but probably hadn’t contributed much to the conversation.

Once Myko was in bed, Hannibal and Will went into the study. Will sat on a couch while Hannibal settled in at the desk and began working on something. Will just stared into the invisible horizon, still feeling his thoughts swirl around in his head.

Finally, the quiet sounds of a pencil scratching on paper and the comfortable setting allowed Will’s thoughts to settle. He looked over at Hannibal and was only half surprised to see that he was drawing rather than writing. He had nearly, but not quite, forgotten that he knew Hannibal enjoyed sketching. He had never seen him do it, and had only decided that he must, during their first proper conversation.

“What are you working on?” Will asked, unable to make out the subject of the drawing.

Hannibal looked up and smiled, apparently relieved that Will seemed to have come back to himself.

“I hope you do not mind, but I had the thought to draw you,” Hannibal replied, making no move to hide the paper. 

Will furrowed his brow and stood up to see the paper better. Hannibal shifted it just a bit, so Will would be able to see it better, and watched Will as he looked down at it.

Though it had clearly been recently started, and so not yet complete, it was breathtakingly beautiful.

Hannibal had clearly taken care to be true to Will’s form, each curve and corner made with precision that belied inherent talent along with years of practice. The Will in the picture was smiling, sitting among clovers and tying them into chains. He looked happy, at ease, and just right in the world. 

Will wondered how long Hannibal had watched him teaching Myko to tie the clovers before he had come over to greet them. He hadn’t realized Hannibal had paid so much attention.

“It’s beautiful,” Will murmured, unable to tear his eyes away from it.

Will felt more than saw Hannibal smile. The man pulled the paper back toward himself and continued his work. Will watched for a few minutes, mesmerized by the way Hannibal’s hands moved and the pencil glided over the paper, creating the image like magic. There was something familiar about his movements, despite having never watched Hannibal draw anything. It was as if he had seen him do it a hundred times. 

Hannibal added details the way Will imagined God had created the stars. Each tiny shadow or highlight was created with great care, as if someone may look at the picture and see only that small portion of it. Will had never had the patience to be good at visual art, but he admired the skill in others. 

“Do I look that way to you?” Will asked, not realizing he was going to say it until the words had fallen from his mouth.

Hannibal stopped his work once more and looked up at Will. Will didn’t meet his eyes, but he could feel the man’s gaze on his skin like a cool breeze in the summer.

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever met, Will,” Hannibal replied solemnly.

Surprised, Will looked up and met Hannibal’s eyes. 

The man wasn’t lying in the least. His eyes were warm and affectionate and Will found himself pinned in place by them. Hannibal just studied Will fondly for a few more minutes.

“Do you find that hard to believe?” Hannibal asked softly, breaking the silence.

Will sighed and looked back down to the picture that had been developing under Hannibal’s care. There was something intrinsically endearing about the angle Hannibal was showing him in. It showed the top of his head, wild with untamed dark curls, and his eyelashes that cast small shadows on his cheeks. Will was certain he had never looked that way in his life, but here Hannibal was.

“I find it hard to believe that anyone can get past my personality in order to appreciate how attractive they might see me,” Will answered vaguely, sitting back down on the couch.

Hannibal waited another moment, but Will didn’t elaborate.

“Has something happened in the case that has you reflecting this way?” Hannibal asked eventually.

Will sighed again, knowing he was going to tell Hannibal everything, but not thrilled by the prospect. He didn’t know what to say.

“The Ripper had another message for me,” Will said after another pause, “but I didn’t tell Jack. I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

Hannibal tipped his head slightly before he got up and joined Will on the couch. Will slumped against Hannibal, letting his head fall onto the man’s shoulder. Hannibal was real, and he wasn’t running away.

“It wasn’t obvious,” Will began, “at least not to everyone, and I told them everything aside from what the Ripper wanted to tell me. I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything about it. I would sound crazy anyway. Maybe I am crazy.”

Hannibal hummed at that, disagreeing without saying so outright. He slipped off his shoes and turned so Will could curl up against his chest on the couch. Will liked that, and he relaxed into Hannibal as the man began to caress his shoulder and arms.

“She was posed on her knees,” Will continued, “and she was holding a golden apple. She had pearls in her hair, and she held the apple like it was the most precious thing in the world. In her pursuit of beauty, she had found only death. The organs from her abdomen were removed, and replaced with a terrarium. There were pomegranate seeds, calla lilies, and a butterfly.”

Will stopped, unsure exactly how to broach the subject of how those things related to him. 

“I knew he meant it for me right away,” Will confessed, “because of the pearls. He wanted me to connect this kill to the last one, so I would know he was trying to say something to me again. Then, there were the pomegranate seeds. He’s the god of death, at least in his own mind, and by extent, mine. He was offering them to me, I think, in a way. He thinks he would like me to join him, in his kingdom. Then, the lilies. I can’t really wrap my head around that part. I told the team it was to show how the woman wanted to be beautiful, but I know it’s more than that. It was for me. He wanted to tell me he thinks… I’m beautiful, I guess. Maybe. I’m not sure. Anyway, then there’s the butterfly. That one’s a bit more round about, in a way. The transformation from a caterpillar to a butterfly is what he was really hinting at. He wants me to go through some sort of change, I think. One that will make me more likely to accept his invitation.”

Will paused for a moment, feeling like he was throwing everything at Hannibal too quickly. He wasn’t sure if he sounded as crazy as he felt, but he was concerned about it.

“Is there more?” Hannibal prodded.

Will sighed again, feeling like he had been doing that too often in the last twenty four hours.

“Yeah. I just, I don’t know if I have the right to think any of this. Maybe it’s all wrong and I should stop trying to understand someone who’s so atypical.”

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully.

“From my experience, you are never wrong,” he supplied.

Will huffed a soft laugh and felt his face warm with a blush.

“But… maybe I want to be wrong this time,” Will whispered.

There was a silence after that, in which both men pondered what had been said. Will hated that he had to have mixed feelings about something that should be so black and white. A dichotomy. It shouldn’t be a spectrum like this.

“Because you are afraid of what it would mean if you are not, and if the Ripper is also correct,” Hannibal concluded, his voice soft in Will’s ear.

Will nodded. 

“He thinks I have potential to become something like him, and he thinks that’s beautiful,” Will answered softly, “and I’m afraid of what I might become if he keeps talking to me. Even now, I can’t help but see his work as beautiful. Despite everything, I don’t hate him for what he has done, and I feel no real drive to see him punished for it. I want to find him, but not because I want to see him arrested or hurt. I just want to look in his eyes and see the world how he sees it. I want to know what he sees in me.”

Hannibal kissed the top of Will’s head, and they sat there for a long time. Neither of them said a word, and they just soaked in the presence of each other. Will felt comforted by the fact that Hannibal didn’t seem put off by anything he had said. He hadn’t been horrified, and he hadn’t run away. He hadn’t kicked Will out of his house and banished him from his life. Instead, he was sitting and holding Will, comforting him in his fear. 

Will still didn’t understand how Hannibal could look at him, listen to him, and still wish for him to be in his life. 

\---

Will woke with the sun and started his day. He let the dogs out and made their food. He packed his bag and made sure none of the dogs were sick or injured from their romp in the outdoors. He dressed and left for the day, expecting to spend most of it giving lectures and visiting the labs to hear that nothing new had been learned about the Ripper.

For the first few hours, his day went exactly as expected.

Then, he had a surprise student in his lecture hall.

As students milled in for the next lecture, there was one much smaller body among the throng. 

Mykolas found a seat near the back of the room and settled in like he was meant to be there. A few of the regular students sent him odd glances, but none of them said anything to him or to Will about it. They just seemed to assume Will had given him permission to be there, as he seemed so confident with his position.

Will raised his eyebrow at the boy when Myko looked up at him, but the only reply was a happy wave.

Will didn’t have time to confront Myko about it just then. He needed to start the lecture, and it would disrupt class if he started the conversation. Not to mention parts of his personal life might be revealed to his students. He hated the mere idea of that.

Lucky for Hannibal, the lecture Will was giving was one of the more child-friendly out of them all. He wouldn’t be ruining Myko’s childhood very much by discussing it. 

The lecture continued as usual, everyone deciding unanimously to pretend nothing was different from usual. The students pretended Myko was supposed to be there, Will pretended Myko was supposed to be there, and Myko pretended he had been there a hundred times before. 

At the end of the lecture, Will ushered all his students out the door, but made sure Myko stayed behind to talk with. Myko made no attempt to escape, but Will was still afraid of losing the child in the crowd.

Finally, alone in the lecture hall, Will turned to the child who was grinning pleasantly up at him from in front of Will’s desk.

“Hey, Myko,” Will said pleasantly, “does Hannibal know you’re here?”

Myko nodded, still smiling.

“Father told me to come listen to your lecture today while he is consulting with Jack. I found it very educational,” he said.

Will sighed. He ran a hand over his face in exasperation. Hannibal must have been punishing him for the bad influence thing. 

“So, Hannibal’s in the building at least,” Will surmised, “how long did he say he was going to be?”

Myko shrugged, seeming unconcerned with his father’s whereabouts. 

“He did not give me a timeline,” the boy remarked casually, “Father only said that you will find him when I am no longer welcome.”

Oh. This was some sort of test, apparently. 

Will was sure it was mostly in jest, but he also decided that two could play at that game. 

“Awesome,” he said, “then feel free to sit down again wherever you want. Do you want some paper and a pencil? You can draw, or write, or whatever you want. I’m just going to be giving the same lecture again in an hour or so. Do you want anything to eat? I could get you something from a vending machine.”

Myko shrugged.

“I would like a paper and pencil, but I am not hungry. Father gave me a big breakfast this morning. I think he was preparing for whatever eventual outcome of his experiment.”

That confirmed Will’s suspicions, and he smirked to himself as he retrieved a small stack of papers and a pencil for Myko. Hannibal was experimenting. Will was going to do everything he could to surprise Hannibal with the results. Will had nothing against taking the kid for a bit, even when he was giving lectures. Maybe Myko would learn something and become an FBI agent when he got older. Wouldn’t that be something.

Myko took the paper and pencil and sat in the front row this time. He began working on whatever it was that he enjoyed, and Will sat down to organize his notes again before the lecture. He would normally have taken this time to check in at the labs, or get himself something to eat, but he didn’t want to leave Myko alone. He trusted Myko not to get himself into trouble, but he was not confident the FBI employees wouldn’t start poking around and asking questions. It was just better to be around where he would be able to explain what was going on should anyone ask.

Not that he was sure exactly what he would say.

“Oh yeah, my sort of boyfriend, guy who I have been seeing for a while, wanted to see what I would do if he shoved his son into my classroom without warning me.”

That would definitely raise some eyebrows. 

Will really hoped no one would come by.

As if the universe itself was out to get him, Beverly walked in just minutes after he had the thought. She walked right up, not seeming to notice Myko right away.

“Hey, Graham. I expected to see you in the lab today,” she said, folding her arms and tipping her head accusingly.

Will shrugged and nodded to where Myko was still sitting, minding his own business as he continued to work.

Beverly looked over and did a double take when she saw Myko. 

“Oh my god. Is that Lecter’s kid?” she asked quietly, leaning toward Will as if it were a secret.

Will nodded.

“Mykolas. Hannibal told him to come watch my lectures for the day, I guess. Lucky for him, it’s just insect activity, so nothing too mature for him to hear. Did you need something?” Will explained.

Beverly shook her head in wonder.

“We haven’t found anything yet. I just thought you would have come by. I see why you didn’t, though. Not really a place you want a little shadow to follow you to. Have anything Jack might want to know? He’s bound to come asking.”

Will nodded.

“Probably. I don’t have anything concrete at the moment. Jack’s welcome to come by and ask me about it, but I’ll give him the same answer. Supposedly, Hannibal’s with Jack, though, so it’d be good to see them both. I have a few words for Hannibal, and Jack probably has some for me,” Will said, “so feel free to tell either of them to stop by if you see them.”

Beverly nodded, still seeming bewildered by Myko’s presence.

“Sure,” she agreed, “but, are you and Lecter, like, together?”

Will shrugged.

“Sort of. I guess we’ll have to see how everything turns out. Especially with this kid,” Will answered, waving at Myko again.

Beverly huffed a soft laugh, but nodded. She walked out with a small wave to Myko, which was returned by the boy. After she left, Will and Myko fell back into their comfortable silence until the next lecture was due to start.


	14. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun times all around

Hannibal looked stressed when he walked into the lecture hall, despite how he tried to hide it. His eyes flicked around the room until they lit on his son, and his entire posture relaxed by a margin.

“Hey, Hannibal,” Will called, only glancing up from his papers to greet the man.

Hannibal looked at Will and sighed.

“I was certain you would seek me out not long after I sent Mykolas to you,” Hannibal confessed, “I had not anticipated you allowing him to remain with you for so long.”

Will laughed softly.

“You thought I was going to get bored of him? Myko and I are friends. It was no inconvenience, ‘cause he’s real well behaved too. I just let him do what he wanted, and he didn’t bother the students. I figured you’d come by if you got worried.”

Hannibal nodded, though he still seemed slightly dazed. It seemed he had worried about his son, or perhaps about Will, or even both, when they had not come looking for him. It was sort of adorable to see the concern ebb from Hannibal’s face.

“I had thought you would grow curious enough to come looking for me when you had a moment,” he explained.

Will shrugged.

“But I have your kid. You wouldn’t leave without him, so I just had to wait until you wanted to go home. My curiosity would be sated soon enough, without the added inconvenience of a goose chase,” Will said, amused at the entire predicament.

Hannibal huffed his own laugh, apparently over the initial shock of having been wrong.

“I see your intellect, as always, proves more impressive than I already thought,” he said.

Myko seemed to grow bored of whatever he was doing, standing up from his seat and walking over to Hannibal. He still had a paper clutched in his hand, but he didn’t try to show it to his father. He just looked up at Hannibal, who smiled down at him.

“I had almost convinced myself you had decided to tell Will of the game,” Hannibal said softly to the boy.

Myko scoffed dramatically, tipping his nose up proudly.

“Of course not, father. Will did not choose to look for you, and there was little I could do about that. I found his class interesting, too, so I saw no reason to complain.”

Once again, Myko spoke like the well educated child he was. Brought up by the pretentious, high society socialite of a man that was Hannibal Lecter. It was somewhat conflicting with the way he acted when at home or just around Will. It nearly gave Will whiplash when he heard the boy speak.

Hannibal shook his head in bewilderment.

“The pair of you will be the death of me,” he accused, clearly amused at the idea.

Will stood up and kissed him, smiling cheekily. He knew Hannibal was actually stunned by how he had reacted to the test, and he wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings about it.

“Hopefully not too soon, Doctor,” Will teased, “but what did you want to talk to me about? I assume there was something, since you wanted me to find you so much.”

Hannibal sighed, hooking his fingers into Will’s belt loops as if to keep him from escaping. He tugged Will close, so their noses were almost brushing, and he inhaled deeply. 

Will had picked up on the fact that Hannibal had a very acute sense of smell, but he hadn’t brought it up. He did wonder about it sometimes, but had decided the time hadn’t been right yet.

“I would like to invite you to a benefit,” he replied softly, “but I must ask first, do you dance?”

Will huffed a laugh. He hadn’t expected Hannibal to ask him that, though he supposed it wasn’t too much of a shock. Hannibal was just the kind of person who would ask that kind of thing.

“That depends, Doctor Lecter,” he replied with a hum.

Hannibal blinked curiously.

“On what, Will?” he asked.

“On my partner.”

\---

Why had he done that?

Sure, Will knew how to dance. He had taken a class once, after his school counselor had “suggested” it to him. It was an exercise on his sociability. 

The only problem was that he had learned quick, and still managed not to have an entire conversation with any of the other students. The counselor had basically given up on him at that point, but he had learned well. There had even been a few times when the other students had asked him for tips, though they hadn’t gone very well.

Apparently, “just don’t trip” was not very good advice when someone asked how he got through a maneuver without stumbling.

But now, Will was dressed in a tux, driving to Hannibal’s house in order to go to a benefit where he was expected to dance. He knew people would be watching Hannibal. Hannibal was popular, and drew attention wherever he went. The idea of dancing in front of an audience was not new to him, but he didn’t relish the thought.

Will ran his hand through his hair again, wishing he had just said no when Hannibal had asked if he could dance. Maybe he wouldn’t have even been asked to go to the benefit with him if Hannibal had been able to expect Will wouldn’t dance.

It was too late, and Hannibal opened the door with a smile. He wore a tux as well, but it was a deep shade of red. Will saw before even touching the fabric that it was velvet, and the richness of the fabric made the shade look darker depending on the lighting. It looked almost black as it shifted over Hannibal’s torso.

“Does Myko resent the fact that you have such a rich social life?” Will asked as they drove to the function.

Hannibal huffed softly, amused.

“My social life is not so rich when I have no one to share it with,” he replied calmly, “and Myko is infatuated with you. He does not resent me anything if it means I am spending time with you, though I am sure he wishes he could spend more of his time in your company.”

Will rolled his eyes and shook his head. Hannibal and Myko were both so damn charming. It was going to get him into trouble someday, but he just couldn’t stay angry or annoyed with either of them. 

“But did he, before me?” Will wondered aloud, not necessarily needing an answer, “did he wish you would stay home when you went out with others?”

There was a pause, and Will thought Hannibal might actually not answer him. He wasn’t sure what to think about that, but then Hannibal spoke.

“He is much too polite to have ever told me so,” Hannibal confessed, “but I believe I have had companions who he has had a worse opinion of, and was not pleased when I would go out with them.”

Will blinked in surprise. 

Hannibal was being very open about it. It shouldn’t have stunned him as much as it did, but Hannibal usually had a way of answering a question without giving anything about himself away. Now, he was openly admitting that Myko may have kept his feelings from him, and that he did not always wait for approval from his son when choosing companions.

It was like Hannibal was confessing the flaws that he so desperately hid from the world. Will had not met anyone so far who knew that Hannibal was capable of doing wrong, nor that Myko would choose to. It made Will’s head spin with the new information, and he felt curious as to why Hannibal would reveal such things to him now.

“Well, I’m glad you both like me well enough,” Will said, trying not to let the thoughts swirling in his head show through his tone.

Hannibal smiled.

“Much more than you know, I should think,” he said happily, “though I intend to remedy that soon.”

Will wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he didn’t have a chance to ask, either. They pulled up to the benefit, and Hannibal opened his door for him. There were bright lights, and expensive clothes wherever Will looked, and he felt intensely aware of himself. Despite Madame Komeda’s reassurance that he didn’t stand out among the high society crowd to anyone with an untrained eye, he was sure there would be enough trained eyes in the crowd this time to pick him out in a heartbeat. Not to mention, he was going to have to dance, and he was sure people would critique his talents there, being the companion of someone as graceful as Hannibal.

More quickly than Will had anticipated, they were tracked down by none other than Madame Komeda herself. She smiled brightly at the two of them, giving Will a sly wink when Hannibal wasn’t looking. He wasn’t sure what it was about, but he was not going to ask either.

“Hannibal. Will. You make such a handsome couple. Do you intend to dance tonight?” 

The question was aimed at Hannibal, who turned an inquisitive expression to Will. Will sighed and nodded, reluctant, but knowing Hannibal expected it.

“We do,” Hannibal replied, turning to Madame Komeda with a smile, “you know how much I enjoy it. I am eager to do so with my partner, though I am certain he is less so.”

Will shrugged to her with a smile.

“You have said before that this is not my scene, Madame,” he reminded her, “and I am not anxious to make a fool of myself.”

Madame Komeda laughed lightly, as if she only knew how to behave like the fine China she looked to the world. Will almost worried a strong breeze would topple her and she would shatter on the floor.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said, laying a hand lightly on his arm, “you are attractive enough to distract from any shortcomings you may have. No one would think twice about your belonging here, no matter if you have two left feet.”

Will blushed furiously. Despite the fact that Hannibal continued to tell him he was good looking, and he knew it held some level of truth, Madame Komeda was still a relative stranger to him. Not many people had the guts to say stuff like that to someone they barely knew.

Maybe that was another thing people in high society were allowed that Will was unaware of. 

“Uh, thank you,” Will managed after a pause that was probably too long, “I think that was meant as a compliment, at least.”

He flashed her a smile, drawing on Hannibal’s personality as much as he could without it being obvious what he was doing. He just needed to survive the night without making a complete fool of himself. Then, he would refuse any invitation Hannibal extended in the future, citing the exhaustion socializing always forced on him as his excuse.

Madame Komeda seemed pleased, but before any of them could say another word, a man appeared at Will’s elbow. He radiated pure anxious energy, and Will visibly winced when he brushed against his arm. They all turned to face the man, Hannibal’s expression showing how much he did not want to speak to him.

“Doctor Lecter!” the man said, bouncing on his feet a bit, “I knew you would come to this kind of thing. You’re such a generous person. Not that I came here just because I thought you’d be here. I like to do this kind of thing too.”

Will could feel Hannibal’s muscles tensing as the man spoke, and Madame Komeda was clearly aghast at his blatant ignorance of social niceties. Will didn’t know who the man was, but he already didn’t like him much.

“Franklyn,” Hannibal said, doing his best impression of someone who was glad to see an acquaintance unexpectedly, “What a surprise.”

Franklyn beamed, apparently glad just to be acknowledged. Then, his eyes widened and he looked to Will and Madame Komeda.

“I’m sorry, I’m Franklyn Froideveux. I’m doctor Lecter’s patient.”

Ah. That explained it. Hannibal was the kind of person who didn’t enjoy having his patients seek him out outside of the professional setting of his office, and Franklyn was clearly more invested in his personal life than most people would be comfortable with in any context.

Will smiled brilliantly, soaking up every ounce of social skill from the people around him and concentrating it in order to exude pure confidence and belonging.

“It’s so good to meet you, Franklyn!” he said, extending his hand for a warm handshake, “I was just getting after Hannibal for not introducing me to more of his friends. He’s so private sometimes, and I was beginning to think he was trying to keep me a secret.”

Hannibal’s mouth dropped open, just a bit. Not enough for most people to notice, but Will took a mental snapshot of the moment to tease him about later. Will just grinned at him, making the most lovesick expression he was capable of.

Franklyn blinked, also caught off guard, apparently. He accepted the handshake, but stared at Will like he had grown antlers on the spot.

“Keep... you... a secret?” Franklyn said, catching the phrase as Will intended. His eyes darted between Will and Hannibal in confusion.

Will nodded, moving to take Hannibal’s arm and cling to it like a man on a honeymoon. Hannibal smiled, though he was having a hard time looking sincere and not boastful. Madame Komeda wasn’t even trying to hide her amusement, watching the interaction like a high schooler witnessing a fight in the cafeteria.

“You’re- wait,” Franklyn said, the gears in his head clearly needing some grease, having rusted from disuse.

Hannibal turned sharply, making Will notice that music had started. Hannibal turned back, grinning wildly and grabbing Will’s hand to no doubt pull him to wherever they were supposed to go to dance.

“My apologies, but I do believe I have been promised a dance with Will. I do hope to see you later,” Hannibal declared cheerily. 

Hannibal started dragging Will away, and Will batted his lashes up at him adoringly.

Before Will could fully drop his confident act and worry about making an absolute fool of himself, Hannibal had him turned to face him and placed their hands to begin dancing. 

Will stared up at him, still whirling from everything that was happening. Hannibal smiled adoringly as they began to move together. Hannibal’s eyes were sparkling in a way Will had never seen before, and he couldn’t look away. He just stared at the maroon universes that stared back at him brightly.

They were almost halfway through the song when Will remembered he had been worried about dancing. He realized they had been moving together perfectly, and he grinned. He didn’t need to draw on the confidence of anyone now, as he raised an eyebrow at Hannibal in challenge. Hannibal huffed a soft laugh in response, and the energy of their movements increased.

Will found it actually came naturally to him to dance this way when he was with Hannibal. It felt as if they could anticipate the movements of the other without communicating verbally. A single glance, or change of pressure between their hands, and they would begin something new. No one existed outside of Will and Hannibal, as far as they were concerned, and the only other thing in the universe that mattered was the music that led them through their movements with a smooth melody.

Will had never danced as well as he did at the benefit, with Hannibal. No other partner had ever matched his movements so well, or compensated for his shortcomings. There was a singular understanding between them that he had never experienced before, and he found himself almost laughing by the end of the song.

When it was over, they stopped, and Will was panting a bit from the exercise. He hadn’t moved like that in years, and he had actually enjoyed it. He was grinning and catching his breath as Hannibal kissed him lightly and pulled him again into the crowd.

“You are flushed with pleasure,” Hannibal mumbled into his ear as they walked through the others, “a sight I had thought never to share with others.”

Will felt his face grow warmer and he swatted Hannibal gently, scowling and pouting comically to show exactly how upset he was with the man for the comment.

Truthfully, Will felt great. He hadn’t enjoyed himself while around so many people for as long as he could remember. He had actually managed to have a good time, while surrounded by strangers who were bound to judge him. But he felt amazing.

“I never enjoyed dancing like this,” Will confessed, watching as someone else caught sight of Hannibal and made their way over, “but I suppose I did say it depends on my partner.”

Hannibal flashed a grin, and then turned his attention to the person approaching him.


	15. 15

“God. I know people like you, Hannibal, but that was insane,” Will said, glad to be back in the relative shelter of the Bentley, “I didn’t know anyone would bother to even remember that many names, much less know that many people.”

Hannibal huffed a laugh, starting the engine and starting the journey back to his house.

“They were not all individuals that I take the time to speak with, but it seems everyone was quite taken with  _ you _ ,” he replied, “I rather think I may have to start beating them away with a stick to keep you for myself.”

Will laughed.

“You aren’t typically so modest, Doctor Lecter,” he teased, “and yet here you are, trying to downplay the influence you have in the social atmosphere. There was not one person there who would not do nearly anything to take my place tonight. You know I’m right. You don’t need to keep all politeness when it’s just us.”

Hannibal hummed, glancing over at Will slyly.

“If I were to disregard my manners, I would prefer to do so when we are not in a car,” he said.

Will blushed again, knowing Hannibal had said it just to get that reaction. He huffed and turned to look out the window as they drove, refusing to dignify that with a response.

Hannibal was still amused. Will could feel it in the air around them. 

“I suppose many of those present at the benefit have not seen me dance, regardless,” Hannibal stated after a few moments, “It has been some time for me as well.”

Will hummed softly.

“Why is that?” he asked idly, not looking over at the other man.

There was a moment of silence, and Will glanced over to see Hannibal with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“My last dance partner was Kalliope,” he answered after a pause, “and I confess she was not as skilled as you. We only rarely danced, and even that was many years ago. Neither Paris nor Locke enjoyed dancing.”

Will swallowed harshly. 

He was just  _ great _ at this. Every time they had a nice evening together, he ended up making Hannibal remember all his spouses that had died. Good job, Graham.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, turning back to look out the window again. It was the safest decision.

“There is no need, Will,” Hannibal replied, not sounding upset in the least, “I could not be more pleased with you. I have not enjoyed a benefit as much as I did tonight in all my years on this earth. Neither have I ever enjoyed dancing so much as I did with you. I would like you to know of my past, if only so you may know how improved my life has been since I have met you.”

Will didn’t know what to say to that. Surely, there  _ had _ to be a correct response to something like that, but Will’s brain could not produce it in the moment. The sentiment was too intimate and affectionate for him to attempt to match it with his own words. 

Neither of them spoke again until Hannibal pulled up to his house. 

“I was greatly impressed with your reaction to Franklyn,” Hannibal said, his amusement at the memory warming the words as he turned off the engine.

Will grinned.

“I never showed you that little perk of my empathy before tonight,” he said, opening his door and stepping out, “but I’ve always thought it was a fun little party trick. I think I gave him something to mull over before your next session with him.”

Hannibal walked around the car to meet him, and Will felt warm just at the sight of him. 

“I would almost like to be perturbed by that notion,” Hannibal said softly, pulling Will close by his waist and smiling, “but the very fact that you managed to make that man speechless for even a  _ moment _ is payment enough for any inconvenience. 

Will laughed.

“I get the feeling you aren’t very fond of your patient, Doctor,” he teased.

Hannibal sighed dramatically, leaning in to nuzzle at Will’s neck and jaw.

“I am not the only one,” he said quietly, “he was a referral, and I am his sixth psychiatrist.”

Will huffed in surprise. He had seen a few psychiatrists in his time, but  _ six _ referrals definitely said something about the mental state of a person. 

“He attaches himself to his psychiatrists every time?” he asked, “I imagine that makes therapy somewhat less effective.”

Hannibal nodded.

“I have also been considering referring him to another, seeing as he has followed me a few times.”

Will felt a cold trickle of anger run through his veins, and he berated himself for it. There was no reason to be angry. Franklyn was just a very confused, probably mentally ill person. Not to mention, Hannibal is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. It wouldn’t do any good for Will to be angry at Franklyn for his obsessive behavior.

But he was.

“Then you should refer him,” Will said bluntly.

Hannibal pulled away with a questioning expression. He studied Will for a moment before he slowly grinned.

“Will Graham. Are you the possessive type? I hadn’t even considered that you may be,” he said.

Will huffed and ducked his head.

“You thought you’d be the one beating people off with a stick, but I’m about ready to do that,” he replied, “I don’t like the idea of someone following you around. It’s rude.”

Hannibal pulled Will into a kiss and started leading him toward the house.

“I abhor rudeness,” Hannibal agreed, pulling Will inside and kissing him again. 

It was like they couldn’t breathe without each other. Like they couldn’t stand any separation. Will was sure he had never felt that way, and he had never heard anyone else say they had felt it. There was something strange about this all, but he loved it.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Will managed to ask when they broke apart to breathe.

Hannibal hummed, but didn’t seem very motivated to head into the kitchen. It made Will wonder, because Hannibal usually cared so much about his food. Will was well aware Hannibal enjoyed seeing him eat what he had prepared. 

“Dinner can wait,” Hannibal replied, nuzzling along Will’s neck and breathing deeply near his hairline.

That was really a surprise. Hannibal was punctual and scheduled in a way very few adults managed to be. He would not allow them to postpone dinner under normal circumstances.

So, what about tonight was unusual?

Will couldn’t identify anything other than Hannibal’s behavior as being odd. Hannibal had done a few out of character things that night, but Will couldn’t see any causes behind it. 

Hannibal must have known something Will didn’t.

“Why?” Will asked.

Without answering, and without allowing Will to ask anything further, Hannibal had Will pushed up against a wall and was basically devouring him. His hands were tangled into Will’s hair, his elbows pinning Will’s shoulders and upper arms to the wall. Will couldn’t push him away, regardless of the fact he didn’t want to, and all he could do was clutch at the sleeves of Hannibal’s suit and try not to moan too loudly.

Hannibal wasn’t usually this rough, but Will felt his entire body lighting up at his actions. He felt suddenly too hot in his own suit, and couldn’t imagine how Hannibal was surviving in something as hot as velvet. 

“I love you,” Hannibal said, his voice rough and breathless as he continued to bite and kiss at Will’s skin.

“I love you too,” Will confessed, feeling like nothing existed aside from Hannibal’s lips in that moment.

“Marry me.”

Will’s breathing stopped, and he honestly didn’t know how to respond. 

That was one of the last things he had expected to hear come out of Hannibal Lecter’s mouth. He hadn’t thought Hannibal was even considering it, much less that he was on the verge of actually doing it. 

At Will’s hesitation, Hannibal pulled back and studied him.

“I would have asked at the benefit, but I decided you would rather not be that kind of spectacle,” he said softly, his fingers rubbing distracting circles in Will’s scalp, “and I felt this was the only way to go about it. You deserve for it to be unique, and private. This is why I ask how I do.”

Will huffed a soft laugh, ducking his head and closing his eyes. 

Of course Hannibal had it all thought out. He was so damn smart and one hell of a perfectionist. He had probably been planning this since before he dropped Myko off at Will’s class. 

“I think Madame Komeda would be upset to hear she was deprived the opportunity to be a witness to this,” Will teased, knowing he was deflecting and postponing his own actual answer.

Hannibal hummed pleasantly, pressing closer to Will and making the air between them incredibly warm. 

“She will forgive us,” he answered, clearly still waiting.

Will chewed on his lip for a moment. 

If he had been expecting the proposal, he might have had an answer ready. Since he hadn’t had a clue, he was scrambling for something coherent to say.

“Are you expecting me to move in?” Will asked, still not fully comprehending what he was being asked.

“Only if you would like to,” Hannibal replied, “As much as I ache for that to happen, I know you have your own life.”

Will felt like he couldn’t breathe properly. Hannibal was still pressed up to him, and every bit of contact was electrifying, and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to think properly while Hannibal was still touching him. Despite that, he didn’t want Hannibal to ever stop.

“What about my dogs?” he asked, not trying to make excuses, but just trying to think logically about what Hannibal was proposing. It wouldn’t do for them both to rush into anything without thinking it over properly.

“I am amenable to compromise, and we can find a solution,” Hannibal answered firmly, staring at Will like he had painted the night sky with his own two hands.

Will huffed a sigh. Hannibal kissed him again, and Will knew he had already made up his mind. There had never really even been a question. It had never been if. It had always been when.

“Yes,” Will said, gasping as they broke apart, “yes. Okay. It’ll take some time for us to work everything out, but yes.”

Hannibal kissed Will again, and it was soft and tender. He moved his hands down from Will’s hair and began to undo Will’s tie and the buttons of his shirt. Will huffed a laugh at the man, but used his newly freed arms to return the actions. He hummed happily as Hannibal let him remove the velvet jacket and bowtie. 

The two of them slowly made their way to the bedroom, and Will idly wondered if they would ever get to the dinner plans Hannibal had definitely laid out for them that night. 

\---

“Happy Birthday!” Will exclaimed, grinning at Myko as he opened the door of Hannibal’s house.

Myko grinned back, nearly trembling with excitement and bouncing slightly on his feet as he looked up at Will with wide eyes.

“Will!” He cried, jumping up and hugging him tight around his neck. 

Myko had started getting taller, and Will hadn’t even noticed the difference in the boy. They saw each other so often now the growth spurt had gone almost unseen by Will until this moment. When he had met Myko, the boy had been too small to hug Will around the neck if he had tried, even when he jumped. Now, on his eleventh birthday, Myko’s feet only dangled about five inches over the floor as he hung from Will’s arms.

“You’re lucky I’m not carrying your present,” Will reprimanded, putting the boy down and tisking at him playfully, “you’re getting big enough you would have crushed it right off.”

Myko’s eyes widened, and it looked like he might be about to apologize, but Will grinned and shook his head.

“Don’t worry. It’s in my car. I knew you would be excited. I can’t leave it long, but I thought I’d let you come and get it with me,” he said.

Myko _was_ actually vibrating with anticipation, and he glanced over his shoulder as Hannibal walked up, wiping his hands on an apron and smiling brightly at them both.

“Father, can I go with Will to his car to get my present?” Myko asked, basically begging despite the fact that Hannibal didn’t even look like he wanted to say no.

“Alright,” Hannibal said, as if it were a burden, “but be sure all the additions to it are brought in and put away properly before you come back into the kitchen.”

Myko nodded and tore off through the door without stopping to think about what Hannibal’s words meant.

Hannibal pulled Will into a quick kiss before Will had to follow the boy, smiling and shaking his head.

“I still wonder how you convinced me,” he said.

Will laughed, turning to sprint to the car to oversee everything.

“You know exactly how,” he called over his shoulder as he ran.

There was a scream of joy, and Will was only five feet behind Myko when the boy reached the car.

“Ellie!” Myko cried, seeing the dog happily yipping and pawing at the window.

Will grinned. He caught up and handed a leash to Myko.

“There you go,” Will declared, “she’s all yours now. I’ve got everything you need to take care of her, but you get to hold the leash. She’s your dog, and you have to take care of her. You’re her master, so you’re the boss.”

Myko jumped up and down happily, watching as Will opened the car door and the small dog jumped out. She immediately ran up to Myko and yipped happily. Myko laughed giddily and petted her for a good minute before he clipped the leash to her collar. Will watched from the corner of his eye as he filled his arms with Ellie’s things. 

Hannibal had promised to have a place prepared for all of her things to go in order for Myko to be able to keep her taken care of by himself. He would be ready to show Will to where it all belonged once they got back to the car.

It hadn’t taken much to convince Hannibal about the dog. Half the battle had already been won the day he had returned from out of town. Will was also very good at persuading him when he wanted to. 

Myko ran up into the house, leaving Will in his dust. He quickly disappeared into the open maw of the front door, leaving it open for Will, who was grateful for it since his arms were full of food, toys, and a bed.

Hannibal met him at the door, offering to carry things for him, seeming a bit flustered with his son’s excitement and disregard for their guest.

“Nah, just show me where to put everything,” Will said, waving Hannibal away and not handing him anything, “I’ve got a few instructions for Myko about Ellie. I just have to chase him down and get him to hold still long enough to listen.”

Hannibal smiled and showed Will to a closet that had been emptied for the sole purpose of housing the items that the dog came with. Will placed everything on the shelves, making it look as organized as he could. Hannibal would rearrange everything later, he could guess, but he didn’t want to look like a complete slob.

Even though Hannibal already knew everything about him.

Will stood up and was pulled into another kiss before he finally had the chance to go looking for Myko. The boy had probably gone to his room to show Ellie his things, and his bed. Will would have to warn him about letting her sleep on the bed with him every day. That was asking for trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say, to the people who told me I was pushing it too far with Hannibal's five spouses: Suck it! (that's how vulgar I get in reality) Hanni boy is racking up his count, and there is nothing you can do about it. This is My fic, and I make the rules.


	16. 16

“You can’t let her sleep with you every night,” Will warned, petting Ellie absently as Myko and he both sat on the boy’s bed, “Dogs think they’re the boss if they get to sleep in the human bed all the time, and then they’ll be harder to keep obedient. You have to make sure that she always does what you say, so if you say no when she wants on the bed, you have to make sure she gets off. Don’t change your mind after you give her an instruction.”

Myko listened intently, apparently determined to be the perfect dog owner. Will knew he would do just fine, and he would remember to do what Will told him. Not to mention, Hannibal would remind him if he ever thought Myko was neglecting his duties.

“Is Father going to make her food the way you do?” Myko asked, tipping his head curiously as if he couldn’t quite picture Hannibal doing something like that.

Will smiled.

“I gave him instructions on how to make the best dog food,” Will answered, “but he’s only going to do it the first few times. He’s going to teach you how to do it, and then it’ll be your job. You’re the boss, remember?”

Myko grinned, and Will knew he liked that idea. A kid like Myko had never been the boss, no matter how much agency he had been given by Hannibal as he grew up. Hannibal would have consulted him in important decisions, but it had always been clear who was in charge. Now, Myko was really the monarch over his own kingdom. Even a kingdom as small as a dog.

“When are you going to marry Father?” Myko asked, looking pointedly at the ring on Will’s finger.

Will huffed a laugh and looked at the ring as well.

He had woken up with it on his finger the morning after Hannibal had asked him. He had laughed, suddenly realizing it hadn’t been a dream and he had actually agreed to marry Hannibal. It had been surreal, but warm in an increasingly pleasant way. 

Every day Will woke up with the ring still on his finger, he spun it around a few times just to feel the smooth rub of the metal on his skin. He would smile to himself periodically during his lectures when he remembered it, and he knew his students had all noticed both the ring and the change in his attitude. Remarkably, none of them had asked as of yet. He wondered if they were frightened of him, or just trying to respect his privacy.

Beverly had offered to throw them both a party when she had seen it, and it had taken quite a bit of arguing just to keep her from acting on it.

“When it’s a good time,” Will answered, knowing it wasn’t a good enough answer for someone like Myko, “Hannibal and I both have some things to work out before we can do that kind of thing. I have too many dogs to bring here, anyway. It took some convincing just to get him to agree to this little one.”

Will ruffled Ellies fur for emphasis, smiling warmly. Myko considered his words for a moment, nodding in understanding much more seriously than any eleven year old ought to have been capable of.

“You have to keep Winston,” he declared with a note of finality, as if his word was absolute law on the subject.

Will raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he asked.

Myko nodded gravely.

“Yes. You can convince Father to let you bring him with you. He will agree.”

Will laughed.

“Alright. You want to go see what Hannibal’s cooking up for you? Today isn’t about me anyway.”

Myko smiled softly and nodded. He hopped off the bed, followed closely by Ellie, and Will followed them both back down to the kitchen. 

Hannibal turned when they entered, and grinned at them both. 

Hannibal had warned Will that he was not as fond of baking as he was of cooking. He had claimed it was because he had never been able to keep things as tidy when baking. He liked everything to be perfect, even during the creation process.

Now, Will couldn’t help the rush of affection he felt for the man.

Hannibal had flour and cocoa layered on his apron, a bit of powdered sugar had fallen onto one of his Italian leather shoes, and somehow, miraculously, there was a smear of frosting on one of his high cheekbones.

“What on earth are you doing?” Will asked, laughing and stepping up to give him a kiss, “You look like you had a fight with a mixer.”

Hannibal huffed, carefully not getting any of the offending ingredients on Will’s clothes.

“I warned you,” he replied simply.

Will laughed again and pulled their bodies flush together, making sure to get himself covered in flour and cocoa. He hummed happily and licked the frosting from Hannibal’s cheek.

“Well, it tastes good enough,” he noted, “but I never thought I would ever see you looking this out of order while in the kitchen. What kind of cake are you making?”

Hannibal rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“Red velvet,” he replied, pulling away and turning back to create what would definitely be the fanciest monstrosity of a birthday cake Will had ever seen.

Will shook his head in amusement, watching as Ellie walked in and licked the powdered sugar from Hannibal’s shoe. Hannibal sighed in exasperation, looking down at the dog and his now slobbery shoe.

“Of course you would make the one fancy kind of birthday cake,” Will said, leaning against a counter to watch Hannibal work.

Hannibal pouted slightly.

“Mykolas requested it,” he said, his tone almost whining.

Myko chose that moment to walk back into the kitchen with a treat for Ellie, and he grinned.

“I did,” he agreed, “Red velvet is my favorite. Father only makes it for me on my birthday. His is the best, though.”

Will laughed.

“Of course it is,” he said, “your father doesn’t do anything unless he does it perfectly. He’s persnickety that way.”

Hannibal handed Will a mixing bowl full of what Will assumed was cake batter. He smirked and pressed a kiss to Will’s forehead before gesturing to the whisk.

“Perhaps you could make yourself useful rather than just calling names,” he teased.

Will put the bowl down and washed his hands, having just been touching a dog. As he dried them, Hannibal snuck up behind him and tied an apron around his waist, pressing a warm kiss to the back of his neck.

Will hummed pleasantly, turning to catch Hannibal in a kiss.

“What would you do without me?” he asked.

Hannibal shook his head.

“I wonder.”

Will picked the bowl back up and began to whisk the batter, watching as pockets of flour and cocoa broke open and mixed in with the rest of it. He dipped his finger in and took a taste, making eye contact With Hannibal as he licked it off.

Hannibal huffed and shook his head again. 

“You are terrible,” he said.

Will grinned, winking at Myko who was watching with a wide smile. 

Hannibal turned away and continued with some other preparations. Will surreptitiously tipped the bowl toward Myko in an offer. Myko lit up and stuck his finger in to get a taste, and quickly licked it off. They both glanced over to where Hannibal was working, checking if they had been caught. Hannibal didn’t even bat an eye, and Will and Myko nodded to each other in understanding. 

They had done it. They had tasted the batter without being caught. Mission accomplished.

“Mykolas, you should introduce your new companion to the back yard,” Hannibal said, “and be sure she is aware that the garden is off limits. I do not wish to have her become ill from nibbling on anything toxic to canines.”

Myko nodded and scurried off, followed closely behind by Ellie, who had accepted the transfer of ownership with exceptional grace for a dog. Will supposed she had liked Myko enough when they first met that she was more than happy to be his now.

Will watched them go with a smile on his face, still mixing the batter despite the fact it looked smooth and ready now. 

Hannibal came up behind Will once more and pressed a kiss to his neck as his arms snaked around Will’s middle.

“I am perfectly aware you have once again attempted to corrupt my son by conspiring to taste the batter,” Hannibal said quietly, setting his chin on Will’s shoulder.

Will huffed a soft laugh.

“I get the feeling you’re not going to really do anything about that,” he replied happily.

Hannibal hummed noncommittally, but they both knew Will was right. Hannibal didn’t have any desire to punish Will for anything. As much as Will pushed his buttons, there were lines he knew not to cross, and Hannibal never actually became angry with him. He could be annoyed or frustrated, but anger seemed beyond him. At least when it came to Will.

“Should I be expecting to be mobbed by ten more kids for his party?” Will asked, leaning his head slightly against Hannibal’s.

“No,” Hannibal replied, “he specifically requested to have a family exclusive party this year. That makes just the four of us, including Ellie. He has never been one for large parties regardless. Always just a few close friends.”

Will smiled and took another taste of the batter.

\---

“Okay, so I’m keeping Winston, no arguments allowed there,” Will said, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he drove, “I think it would be funny for me to keep Jack, in case we ever invite Agent Crawford over for dinner or something. That one is open for debate, though. Max looks like the kind of dog someone like you would keep around, so you might want to put some real consideration into that one.”

Hannibal sighed on the other end, though Will could hear his smile.

“I fear you are going to make a case for keeping every single dog, and I will be powerless to stop it,” the man said.

“Aww. Don’t worry. I know we can’t keep Buster. He’s the type to chew up shoes, and get into trouble on purpose. That knocks the total down to six, at least,” Will teased back, “but really. I know I’m not going to keep all of them. I wouldn’t want to ruin all your stuff. This kind of thing is a compromise. I just want to be sure we all end up happy with the results.”

Hannibal agreed, and they talked about what Will would bring with him when he moved. They talked about keeping his house in Wolf Trap as a second home in case of emergencies. Will voiced his opinion on how silly he would feel having two houses. It was something he had never wanted, because no one needed more than one house. That was just something rich people had the luxury of doing. Having a house for every season, or for every bit of scenery they could want. Will had always thought it was a bit ridiculous for people to have summer homes and beach houses. 

They chatted for a few minutes before Will pulled up at Quantico.

“Alright, I have to go. I’m at work now, and there’s stuff to be done. See you for dinner?”

“Of course,” Hannibal replied, basically purring the words.

Will laughed. He really did love Hannibal. The man was pretentious and formal and exasperating, but Will loved him more than anything. 

“Alright. See you then. Love you,” Will said.

“We will see you then, Will. I love you too,” Hannibal said.

Will shut his phone off and stepped out of his car. The air had been getting colder recently, signaling the approach of winter. Autumn had felt short this year, and Will mourned its passing. It seemed as if it had been summer one day, and then the cusp of winter the next. 

Will set up for class without incident, playing scenes of Hannibal and Myko through his head to stave off the darker thoughts and anxiety that always tried to worm their way in. 

Jack hadn’t bothered Will recently. There wasn’t another Ripper kill yet, which was odd. It had been months since the last one, and the killer usually worked in threes. This was different from their usual pattern.

Will supposed it wouldn’t mean much, though, in the grand scheme of things. 

What really was the difference between two bodies and three? Only one body. The Ripper didn’t likely have any reason to be so specific with the number of victims. Why three? Why did he create art with them? Why did he kill them in the first place? It was all just on his whim, and they were subject to change whenever he liked. 

Perhaps he had simply killed two this time, and would now take his break until the next sounder. It would make just as much sense as anything else he did.

Except that wasn’t quite true, was it?

Will knew better. The Ripper was not going to change his patterns without real cause. Another body would drop soon enough, and his sounder would be complete. 

Maybe he was doing it for some reason. Some grand reveal of something for the FBI and Will. He was waiting for some cue, or the perfect time. Maybe he was preparing the next course of the meal. Letting the main dish marinate for a while.

Oh god.

Will remembered every case of the Ripper’s kills. He recalled the lists of mutilations and removed organs. He went down the list, knowing what he would find in common with each organ that had been taken.

The Chesapeake Ripper was _eating_ the organs of his victims.

Will had to let his second class of the day go early. He was reeling from the realization, and didn’t have the capacity to worry about his lecture for the time being.

Will braced his arms against his desk, measuring his breaths in order to not hyperventilate or vomit. 

He needed to tell Jack right away. Jack needed to know.

Will’s phone rang, pulling him from the torrent of thoughts as he pulled it from his pocket to answer it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a hiatus during November in order to participate in NaNoWriMo. I will not be updating, nor will I be replying to any comments during the month. Please don't refrain from commenting anyway, because I will be back on December first with a new chapter, and I will reply to the comments I missed during the time. 
> 
> Have fun with this cliffhanger. Next chapter's a doozy. <3


	17. 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning!!! There is a child in danger in this chapter. They are also slightly harmed. Nothing major, but it can induce stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Hiatus over, and I'm returning to my usual update schedule. Thanks for being patient while I did NaNo! <3

“Come outside,” It was Hannibal’s voice.

Will jumped nearly out of his skin at the tone. Hannibal sounded angry and worried. Something had to be very wrong.

“What’s going on?” Will asked, sprinting to the door and heading to the parking lot.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Hannibal replied, ending the call quickly.

Will ran through the doors and spotted the Bentley immediately. He dashed over and jumped into the passenger seat. Hannibal tore off without even waiting for Will to close the door completely, and he looked pale and grim.

Will had never seen Hannibal like this. He was genuinely scared, and absolutely enraged. Will could have sworn Hannibal’s eyes were glowing red with the anger he was feeling, and Will felt his own pulse begin to elevate in anticipation of whatever Hannibal was about to tell him.

There was a moment of silence aside from the sounds of the car and traffic around it. Hannibal was pushing the speed limits, and Will almost worried about getting into a wreck.

“Mykolas is in danger,” Hannibal stated after a moment, “Open the glove box, please.”

Will didn’t have to be told twice. He felt his hands move of their own volition as he popped the glove box open. It was like Hannibal’s words had shoved Will out of his body, and he was now just watching himself from the outside.

“There is a note. You may read it so you understand the circumstances.”

Will saw the note right away. It stood out among the neat registration and insurance papers. It was simultaneously more fancy, and far too distasteful for Hannibal. The black envelope was garish, and not something Hannibal would normally have. 

Will scanned over it, feeling his blood begin to boil at the words. 

It was almost a typical ransom note, except for that the author had clearly been more intelligent than most kidnappers. They demanded Hannibal go directly somewhere in order to get Myko back. The directions were odd, giving vague and twisted details that would have confused any police or agents who read it, but must have made sense to Hannibal. 

The worst part about it, was that Will understood why Hannibal wasn’t calling the police or Jack about it. He was far too familiar with the percentage of kidnapping victims who ended up dead when action was not taken immediately. It wasn’t good enough. Mykolas could not die. Will would end up killing anyone who had any part in it if Myko ended up dead. He knew he would, and it frightened him almost as much as the idea that Myko was in danger in the first place.

Will had the urge to shred the note with his bare hands, or even his teeth. It would be cathartic. 

He refrained from so much as creasing it as he put it back into the envelope and fumed in silence.

“Where is he?” Will asked, his voice sounding odd and foreign to him as the words echoed hollowly from his lips.

Hannibal recited an address, and the name of a location. The words bounced around in Will’s head until finally settling and making some bit of sense to him.

“That’s where the first body was found,” he said, “the start of this sounder. The one with the fishing lure.”

Hannibal nodded numbly. He didn’t seem to be in an overly chatty mood, and Will honestly understood that. He, himself, wanted something to distract him from the tidal waves of violent thoughts coursing through his brain, and he wished Hannibal would fume aloud. Being the one to offer words of comfort might have given him a chance to sort out his own thoughts and reactions. 

Or he might have ended up only adding to the rage in them both as they spoke. Maybe it was safer for both of them to just be silent for the drive.

Hannibal pulled up to a large wooded park, his knuckles still white on the steering wheel. He took a moment, closing his eyes and measuring his breaths. 

“Will. I would not ask you to come with me if it were not necessary,” Hannibal confessed, sounding dismayed, “but I must ask that you will help me.”

Will curled his hands into fists, only able to think about what he was going to do if he came face to face with someone who had anything to do with putting Myko and Hannibal through this. Neither of them deserved it. Myko was only a child. It was like the universe had seen exactly what Will would never accept, and had thrown it all together to make him lose his mind.

“I don’t care, as long as we get Myko,” Will vowed, wanting to grit his teeth, or wanting to cut someone’s throat.

Hannibal smiled faintly at the sentiment, though Will could see his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He was terrified, and angry.

“Hannibal,” Will said, reaching out and stopping him before Hannibal could say anything, “Maybe I should go alone. I have a gun, I work with the FBI, and you’re a civilian. They won’t be expecting me. I have an advantage. You should call Jack and wait here while I go.”

It really was the most logical thing to do in this situation. Will knew it was. It was exactly what they should do. He knew all of that, but he also knew Hannibal wouldn’t agree to it. 

“I cannot risk losing both of you,” Hannibal replied, “not while I remain in safety. I love only two things in this life, and if I could protect  _ you _ right now I would. As things are, I am desperate for your aide. You are the only one I know can do what I ask now.”

Will bit his tongue, knowing now was not the time to say anything. They had to be quick. Every second counted.

“I will need you to come with me so that we may confront the kidnapper together,” Hannibal explained, his voice trembling only a bit, “they are only expecting me, so I think there will only be one person to confront. I will need you to take Mykolas back here and keep him safe. I am perfectly capable of dealing with them myself, but I do not want my son in harm’s way, or witness to any violence he needn’t be.”

Will bit his lip and chewed it for a moment. He knew what he had to say, but he knew Hannibal didn’t want to hear it.

“You’re a civilian, Hannibal,” he said, pleading, “you should take Myko back here and let me arrest the bastard who’s doing this. If I don’t arrest them, or if they make it hard, I’ll just shoot them. I’m angry enough to kill them even if I’ve got them in cuffs, which I don’t have.”

Hannibal sighed and rested his head against the steering wheel. He closed his eyes and wet his lips.

“Will. I know who it is,” he said.

Will froze. 

After later introspection, Will would realize it made perfect sense that someone who knew Hannibal had taken Myko. He would have been damn stupid if he had thought it had to have been some stranger. 

“Who is it?” he asked reflexively, unable to shake the numbness that was settling in his bones.

Hannibal sighed again, pressing his lips together.

“A man named Rhett Freeman,” he answered, his voice soft and anguished, “I treated him once. He asked me for something I could not give him. I was aware he was angry, and I pursued legal actions due to his obsessive behavior. I had thought that would be the end of it. It was years ago. I know now that he has been waiting for something.”

Hannibal sounded on the brink of breaking down, and Will was not going to let that happen. He pulled his gun from the holster and checked the clip. He had an extra, which was unusual, but he was grateful for it. Now he had twice as much ammunition for killing the bastard who was responsible.

“Let’s go,” Will said, knowing he sounded cold, but also knowing that was the only thing he could do at the moment.

Hannibal looked up at him, stunned at the tone and the sight of Will’s gun. Something about the expression on Will’s face must have brought him back to the present, because he took a deep breath and nodded.

They both got out of the car, and Will allowed Hannibal to lead the way. He followed closely, his gun drawn as he scanned the trees for movement. He wanted to have his eyes on the psychopathic idiot who had dared mess with Hannibal and Myko before they had eyes on either of them. 

If Will had anything to say about it, Rhett Freeman would regret ever having set his eyes on Hannibal or his son.

“If we have the chance,” Hannibal said calmly over his shoulder to Will, “I will attempt to distract him in order to give you the chance to free Mykolas and escape. I cannot fully predict what type of scene we may find.”

Will hummed his agreement, too focused on watching the trees to come up with a verbal response. It was dark, a thick layer of clouds hiding the sun already before the trees even got in the way. The air was cold around them, almost to the point of being able to see their breaths in front of them.

Will was not entirely convinced he was going to let Hannibal face this bastard on his own, but they needed to find Myko. He didn’t have time to argue with Hannibal. 

Eventually, Will heard a voice ahead of them in the trees. He didn’t recognize it, but he was sure it was the man they were looking for. Hannibal visibly reacted to it as well, so Will took that as a confirmation. 

Will checked to make sure the safety on his gun was off, and they made their way slowly forward until there was a small clearing directly in front of them, and Will could see a man standing in it. Hannibal stopped, as if knowing Will wanted him to. Will wanted to survey the scene before either of them went in.

Will stepped around Hannibal so he didn’t have to look over his shoulder anymore. He scanned the small clearing, looking for Myko.

There he was. The boy was tied to a chair, his lip split and dribbling blood down his chin onto his clean white shirt. The sight made Will even more determined to kill Rhett for his trespass. 

Speaking of Rhett Freeman, Will studied the man carefully as he seemed to be speaking to Myko.

“I expected your dad to get here by now,” the man said, scratching the back of his neck, which was red, in what seemed to be a compulsive action, “he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t like running late.”

Myko shrugged, clearly shaken, but retaining his dignity. The sight made Will’s chest ache with how much he loved the boy. He knew Hannibal had taught him well, and it was the kind of thing Hannibal would do if ever in that situation. 

“My father would like to be prepared before he arrives,” Myko said, his voice rough but calm.

Rhett growled lowly, a frustrated sound. He clearly hadn’t planned on having Myko this long, at least without also having Hannibal.

“What on earth would he need to pick up before he comes to get you?” Rhett complained, sounding a bit tired.

Will motioned for Hannibal to go ahead and step into the clearing, while he circled around closer to where Myko was tied. He needed to make sure Myko was out of harm’s way before he could punish the bastard. Hannibal nodded, his jaw set with anger and his eyes burning with rage. Will was sure he looked about the same.

“Only the necessities,” Hannibal answered, stepping out into the clearing and drawing Rhett’s attention, “but I am here now, so I would ask you to return my son to me.”

Rhett spun around to face Hannibal, holding out a knife toward him. It was a large hunting knife, and Will could tell he was comfortable with it in his hand. He was either a hunter, or a murderer. Both options made Will more worried about Hannibal as they came face to face. Will hoped Hannibal would be able to distract the man long enough for one of them to find an opening for attack.

“You didn’t even want a kid,” Rhett spat, “you didn’t love Maria. You never loved any of them. You wouldn’t have killed them if you loved them.”

Will was only half-listening, having finally come around to where Myko was. He crouched down behind the chair and began undoing the simple knots Rhett had used. The words Rhett said were less important than the fact that he was choosing to speak rather than lunge.

“You are mistaken,” Hannibal said evenly, though his voice was tense in a way nearly unnoticeable, “I loved Dante and Maria very much. While I had never planned to have a son, I love him with everything I am. If I did not, why would I have come?”

Rhett scoffed.

“You would come to show off to your new arm candy. He seems like the kind of person who would expect you to love your son. He would expect you to come.”

Myko was free, and both he and Will were silent as they backed up into the trees. Once they were far enough away, Will took Myko’s shoulders and looked him in the eye.

Myko was clearly frightened, but he was trying to keep himself together. He was shivering slightly in the newly chilled air, and Will swallowed hard.

“Listen, Myko,” Will said, pulling off his flannel so he was just in his T-shirt, “put this on to keep yourself warm. Do you know how to climb a tree?”

Myko pulled the shirt on, casting a grateful expression to Will. He nodded.

“Good,” Will said, “climb up a tree right here. I’m going back to help your father. I’ll come back for you, but I need you to stay up in the tree until either I or Hannibal comes for you. Do you understand?”

Myko nodded and turned around immediately. He started to scale the first tree he came to, and Will watched until he was almost out of sight among the branches.

Then, Will headed back to the clearing, his blood boiling, and his vision going red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie. I procrastinated writing this chapter for a very long time, because I couldn't bring myself to harm Myko. I have never written a fic where a child who is an actual character is harmed, and I had a very hard time getting myself to do it. I knew I had been planning to do it, but when it finally became time, I cried a few times. 
> 
> Children only deserve good things, and anyone who hurts them should be punished. This is my actual opinion on the topic, and I will physically fight anyone who would hurt a child.


	18. 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let there be blood

Rhett still hadn’t turned to see that his prisoner was gone. He was arguing with Hannibal, growing more agitated as time wore on. He was slashing the knife through the air as he walked closer.

Will watched for about a minute before he stepped forward, growling. He was too angry to stay hidden while this man attacked Hannibal.  _ His _ Hannibal.

Rhett swung around when he heard Will’s approach, stepping back a bit so he could keep Hannibal in his sights as he faced Will.

“How the Hell did you get here?” he shouted, then noticed the empty chair, “you bastard! You took the kid!”

Will grinned, feeling some sort of power flow through his veins as he stared at the man. He held his gun up and aimed it at Rhett, almost laughing.

“Hannibal already told you he stopped to get the  _ necessities _ before coming to meet you,” Will pointed out, “what did you think that meant? Did you think he picked up a cup of coffee before deciding to save his  _ son _ ? I expected more from you.”

Rhett bared his teeth, dividing his attention between Hannibal and Will. There was a slowly dawning realization that he had lost, but with that came the determination to do damage as he went down. Will knew they still needed to be wary.

“Lecter doesn’t love you,” Rhett spat, “he can’t. He’s a psychopath. He never loved anyone.”

Will hummed.

“Want to give up? I work with the FBI. I can just arrest you peacefully, and you can go to jail. The way you’re going right now is going to get you killed, and I admit I’m just  _ waiting _ for you to do something so I can justify killing you.”

Rhett’s eyes grew wide, and he glanced at Hannibal. Hannibal was smiling at Will, with an expression of adoration. Will would have been exasperated with him if his blood wasn’t threatening to paint the world in red at the moment.

Rhett seemed to decide Hannibal was distracted, because he chose that moment to lunge at him.

Freeman managed to get behind Hannibal and press the knife to his throat. Will saw Hannibal stop breathing and tip his chin up to avoid cutting himself on the blade. 

Will let out a string of curses that he was glad Myko was not around to hear. He didn’t want that kind of thing to be one of the ways he influenced the kid. He didn’t know why Hannibal had allowed himself to be caught off guard, but he didn’t have the time to worry about it either.

“Put down the gun,” Rhett demanded.

Will sighed, but he clicked the safety back on and set the gun down on the damp leaves carpeting the ground. He spread his hands to his sides to show he was no longer armed, but he felt like he was nearly trembling with the urge to attack. 

“You want to let Hannibal go,” Will stated, “or you are going to regret you ever heard his name.”

Rhett scoffed.

“You’re not in a place where you can be making demands,” he snapped.

Will grinned, not moving. He had always known his smile was more unnerving than welcoming, and for once he was incredibly thankful for that. If he was going to lose his mind, he wanted to look like it at least.

“I’m not making demands,” he said calmly, “I’m giving you a warning. I have all the time in the world, but  _ you _ were getting tired before we even showed up. You really think you can take us both on? I’m trained in combat, being law enforcement, and Hannibal Lecter is honestly probably even better at hand to hand than I am. Are you really that delusionally confident?”

Rhett seemed to hesitate, staring at Will in confusion.

“You know Hannibal can fight?” he asked, “you  _ know _ about him, and you’re still gonna  _ marry _ him?”

Will didn’t have time to respond, because Hannibal took advantage of Freeman’s distracted state. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding the knife, spun the man around and kicked him in the abdomen hard enough that he stumbled backward towards Will.

Will lunged, his mind going blank. He didn’t have any thoughts other than absolute red rage.

Will pulled the knife from Rhett’s hand and shoved the man to the ground. He stuck the blade deep into Rhett’s stomach and ripped it through him. Blood splashed out onto Will’s hands and clothes. It was red, and hot, and Will could taste it in the air.

Rhett gasped and gurgled under Will, quickly fading into death. Will snarled and tore the blade across his throat for good measure. The heart had apparently still been pumping well enough, because arterial spray spattered over Will’s face and chest. 

Will became aware of himself in a snap, his chest heaving, and his heart thumping steadily in his chest. He could taste blood in his mouth, and he wasn’t exactly sure at what point it had gotten there. He heard footsteps to his right, and he turned to see that Hannibal was walking up to him slowly. Hannibal looked like he was approaching a skittish animal, making Will remember what he had just done. 

Will looked down at Rhett, the man completely dead and gone by this point. 

“Oh god,” Will said, feeling sick, “Oh god no. I didn’t-I never, oh god. Hannibal.”

Hannibal knelt beside Will, not even sparing a glance for the body underneath him. 

“Will, stay with me,” Hannibal said gently, “don’t go inside. There is still much to be done. Go get Mykolas.”

Will nodded numbly and stood up. He didn’t even register the fact that he was drenched in blood. He just headed off into the trees until he stood under the one he had seen Myko climb up into. He called up, and Myko called back, starting his descent. 

Soon, Myko was standing beside Will on the ground, studying Will’s appearance with something akin to appraisal. 

“Did you kill that man?” Myko asked, sounding not at all surprised by the sight of the blood.

Will just nodded numbly.

“Good,” Myko said bluntly, “he deserved it. Did he hurt you or father?”

Will shook his head.

“I didn’t let him hurt Hannibal,” he promised, “and he never got the chance to hurt me. Hannibal wanted me to come get you.”

Myko nodded, bundling himself further into the flannel shirt that was absurdly large on him. 

“Let’s go,” he said.

Will took a deep breath and headed back to the clearing, unsure what he would see when he got there. For all he knew, he had imagined killing Rhett, and he would find him alive and still arguing with Hannibal. Will wouldn’t put it past his strained and abused imagination to break and give him that fantasy in a time of intense anxiety.

The grass and leaves were still coated in blood in a large patch when they made it to the clearing. Will didn’t see the body, but Hannibal walked out from the tree line with a smile.

“Come, Will. Mykolas. There is much to do.”

Will nodded, and Myko mirrored the gesture as they both followed Hannibal back through the trees to the Bentley. Will heard Hannibal and Myko converse quietly as they drove back to Baltimore, but his mind refused to absorb any of their words. He just stared blankly out of the windshield, absently registering the fact that it had started to rain at some point. 

The rhythmic sound of the water hitting the outside of the car lulled him into a more present state of mind, though he was still a bit hazy. He became aware of Hannibal and Myko in the car with him, and his own slow breathing. 

“The rain is quite a blessing to us,” Hannibal said casually, “There is not likely to be any evidence of our activity to be found by the time it clears up.”

Will turned and looked at Hannibal, but his eyes refused to focus. Everything was blurry, and even the sensations of the car around him were fuzzy.

Hannibal glanced over, but didn’t say anything else. 

\---

“Both of you must remove your shirts,” Hannibal said, taking out a first aid kit after having deposited Myko and Will each on a chair, “I will see to any injuries.”

Will numbly pulled off his sticky T-shirt, registering that Myko was pulling off the flannel and his own shirt beside him. 

Hannibal returned and placed his supplies on the counter before he kneeled in front of Myko. Will looked over, and another surge of rage pulsed through him. 

There were several large, dark bruises that had been hidden by Myko’s white collared shirt. One bruise was growing dark along his collarbone, another on his shoulder, and one low on his abdomen. Will’s fingers twitched against his legs as he watched, and it seemed to draw Hannibal’s attention.

Hannibal was pale, and his lips were pressed together in a thin line when he turned to face Will.

“We are all safe now, Will. You did well. Do not worry.”

The words seemed to cut through Will’s hazy thoughts and he nodded. He took a deep breath and tried to steady his pulse. 

Myko was safe. Hannibal was safe. They were safe, and Will didn’t have to worry any more. He didn’t have anyone he needed to fight. He didn’t have to protect them.

“Now, Mykolas,” Hannibal said, turning back to the boy and cleaning the blood off his chin with a wet cloth, “what did Mr. Freeman do to you? What did he say?”

Myko winced slightly as Hannibal felt along his ribs, checking for fractures.

“He told me he knows all about you, Father, and that he intended to punish you for something. He would not tell me what it was, and he grew angry when I asked any questions. He was very rude. I understand why you do not like him.”

Hannibal smiled softly at his son.

“You do not require a trip to the hospital,” he said, “do you have any injuries you think I should take a closer look at?”

Myko took a moment to think, probably making sure he was aware of all his own injuries. 

“No. He was very rough with me, but did not seem to mean me any real harm. At least not before you were able to watch,” Myko said softly.

Hannibal sighed, closing his eyes and bowing his head. He pulled Myko to him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He murmured a few soft words in what Will would later come to realize was probably Lithuanian, and Myko replied in kind.

“Now, you must wash, mažylis. I will prepare something for you to eat when you come back.”

Myko nodded and hopped down from his chair, taking up his shirt. He placed the flannel into Will’s lap before he left.

Hannibal sighed again and turned to Will. He placed a hand on Will’s cheek and turned his head so their eyes met.

“Will, please say something.”

Will blinked a few times, trying to force his mind to return to him.

“Hannibal,” he managed, though his voice sounded foreign to him. 

Hannibal smiled and pressed their foreheads together. 

“That’s good enough, Will,” he said, “I can be patient with you, and wait for you to fully return to yourself. I must make sure you are not injured, first and foremost.”

Will nodded, his brain going fuzzy again.

Hannibal checked all over Will’s torso, his fingers dancing lightly over Will’s skin and seeming to carry electricity with them. Will had gone largely unharmed, he was pretty sure, though his mind wasn’t fully processing things still, so he couldn’t be sure. For all Will knew, he might have broken a bone in the struggle, and hadn’t noticed due to his adrenaline, and now his odd dissociative state.

Hannibal nodded after a few minutes, and he pulled Will to his feet.

“You must also wash. Go shower. I will find something for you to wear.”

Will nodded, bundling his flannel and T-shirt into his arms as he walked to the stairs. He heard Hannibal moving around in the kitchen as he ascended and made his way to the shower attached to Hannibal’s room. 

Will let the water wash over him, watching as it swirled pink around the drain. The sight reminded him of something, but he wasn’t able to complete the connection at the moment. He waited until the water ran clear again, then used the soaps to actually wash himself. When he rinsed the suds from his hair, the water tinged pink again, but only for a moment. 

How much blood had gotten into his hair? Will didn’t remember how it would have gotten there. 

When Will was finished going through the motions of cleaning himself, he stepped out and toweled himself off. He saw a set of clothes waiting on the counter, and he recognized them as his own. That helped pull him closer to the present, because it was familiar. They were clothes that he had left at Hannibal’s house, expecting there to be a time when he would need them. 

This wasn’t exactly the scenario he had imagined when he had left them.

Will dressed and made his way back downstairs to the kitchen. He could hear Myko and Hannibal talking, in Lithuanian again. Their words sounded warm and comfortable, drawing Will closer to them like a spell. 

Hannibal had changed his clothes as well, and was now wearing only a pair of slacks with a sweater. He and Myko both looked up when Will walked in, and Myko ran over.

Myko barreled into Will, wrapping his arms around Will’s middle in a tight hug. Will fell to his knees and pulled Myko into a full embrace against his chest. The sound of the boy’s breathing, and his heartbeat against Will’s own, helped Will come back to himself. He felt a wave of relief flood over him and tears spilled from his eyes as he just held onto Myko. 

Will felt Myko shake a bit with sobs, though his were also of relief, as he was finally able to deal with the fear and pain he had felt. 

Myko could have been killed. 

Will didn’t think he would ever be able to get over that fact. Myko had been in very real danger, and there were so many possible outcomes. Will knew the exact numbers of kidnapping cases that ended well, and the amounts that ended poorly. He knew the percentages, and he knew what a terrible thing it was to have hope when in that situation. 

The fact that Myko was alive was a miracle, and Will would never get over it.

Ellie trotted up and nosed between them, earning a soft chuckle from Will as he finally pulled away. She licked at Myko, jumping up as if she also knew what had happened, and was glad to see him home safely.

Will stood up, letting Myko and Ellie play. He looked up just in time to be pulled roughly into another embrace.

Hannibal didn’t often show intense emotion, but it was clear this had rattled him. He didn’t shake or sob as Will did, but he was unusually quiet and still as Will clung to him. 

Eventually, Hannibal pulled away and pressed a soft kiss to Will’s forehead before he returned to the stove. He was preparing something warm, and much more of a comfort food type than usual, recognizing the need they all had in the moment for something of that nature.


	19. 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much needed discussion, and putting some distance to everything

They were all sitting in the study together, Hannibal and Will drinking coffee as Myko nursed a large cup of cocoa. There was a fire lit in the fireplace, and they were each aware of the gentle chill that continually tried creeping in through the windows from the outside. It was a generally cozy atmosphere, though there was a looming sense of foreignness, as if it could all be shattered at any moment.

“What did you do with the body?” Will asked.

Hannibal looked at Will distantly, as if being cautious with his interactions. He must have known that it was a delicate place they found themselves in suddenly.

“It will not be found,” Hannibal answered quietly, “you needn’t worry about it any further.”

Will scoffed and took a long drink of his coffee.

“That’s laughable,” he said, “” _ don’t worry about the man you killed, Will _ ” what do you expect me to do?”

Hannibal sighed softly.

“I know you too well to expect you to be unworried,” he confessed, “but I only want to assure you it is unwarranted. Just as you have protected us, I intend to protect you. What more would you have me do?”

Will set his coffee on a side table and dropped his head into his hands. He held onto his own hair, pulling to the point where it hurt. He felt like the ground had opened up underneath him. Everything he had once known was false, and everything he had seen turned out to just be a mirage. He had scattered the shadows of the perfect life he had wanted, as if it had all just been suspended on dust. 

“So, you just want me to accept the fact that I killed a man, and you hid the body? You can just move on from this? A man is dead, and it’s because of me,” Will said, feeling actual anguish start to grow in his chest.

Hannibal leaned towards Will, coming into his space in a way he hadn’t since the accident. He pulled Will toward him and laced his fingers through Will’s. He gently loosened Wills grip on his own hair and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Rhett is dead due to his own foolish actions,” Hannibal said softly, “Would you feel better if I had left the body to be discovered by some poor hiker, to lead the authorities directly to you?”

Will shuddered, unsure what he was feeling, but knowing there was a lot of it. 

“I don’t know. At least then, you wouldn’t be an accessory to a crime,” he said, “I could rest easy, knowing I was the only one who had broken the law. I could go plead self defense at best, or go to jail. At least then you wouldn’t have to be a part of it.”

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully.

“Rhett made me a part of it when he targeted my son,” Hannibal reminded him gently, “There was no conclusion of the scenario where I was not involved. I much prefer having the chance to protect you in some semblance of repayment, than to allow you to be punished for protecting Mykolas and myself.”

Will didn’t answer. He didn’t trust his voice, or his conscience. He didn’t know what words would spill out of him if he let the barricade fall.

Mykolas looked up from his seat in front of the fire, frowning at his father. He spoke a few words in Lithuanian, and waited as Hannibal considered his response. Hannibal replied in the same language, leaving Will completely in the dark to what they were saying. Will didn’t have the energy to even care about it.

Their quiet conversation continued for a few minutes, Will still unable to glean even a spark of what they were saying to each other. Eventually, Hannibal sighed and stood up, his fingers lingering over Will’s shoulder before pulling away.

“Will, I’ll begin dinner preparations. You rest here with Mykolas. I will fetch you both when it is time.”

Will nodded and collected his coffee cup from the side table. He cradled it close to his chest as Hannibal left, heading to the kitchen. Myko and Will sat in silence together for a time. It was an uneasy silence, as most seemed just now. It felt as if there was something just on the verge of breaking, and the longer it lingered the more violent the break would be. 

“Do you love my father, truly?” Myko asked at length, staring into the fire as if it held the answers he needed.

Will blinked in surprise and frowned.

“Yes,” he said, “I think I really do. Why?”

Myko glanced over, his lips pressed together in the same way Hannibal’s often were when discussing something of a serious nature. It made the boy look older than he was, as if the happenings of the day had aged him a lifetime. The sight made Will ache with sorrow. No child should have to go through what Mykolas had. 

“I have never seen my father in love,” Myko confided softly, his words careful, but not slow, “not until he met you. I believe he is in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it. At first, I was only pleased. I thought we could all be happy. Now, I don’t know if we can, but if one of you is unhappy, we will all fall apart. Father cannot be happy without you, but I worry that now you will not be happy with him.”

Will didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t realized Myko was so concerned, much less aware of all that. It wasn’t the kind of thing he would want Myko to be worried about, but he supposed it was only natural. Any child who had seen their single parent search for happiness in others would understandably have an opinion on the endeavor.

Will took a drink of coffee and wet his lips, trying to come up with an appropriate response to something so mature coming from a boy who seemed so small and fragile. Will suddenly felt a rush of responsibility. He wanted to protect Myko, regardless of what he needed to face. He wanted to keep him safe, make him happy, and be sure he grew up to be the person everyone wanted to see. 

“I’m worried too,” Will admitted, sighing heavily, “Sometimes we can’t control if we are happy or not. We are going to have to take some time to figure out if everything is going to be alright. I promise I will do everything I can to still be happy with Hannibal.”

Myko studied Will for a moment. Will knew he was trying to detect whether or not Will was being honest with him. Thankfully, Will had a rule about lying to kids, so he had nothing to worry about. 

Eventually, Mykolas gave a single, sharp nod, and turned back to stare into the fire.

“I will do everything I can to be happy as well,” Myko said solemnly, “but I know it will be easier for me.”

Will smiled softly.

“Kids are resilient,” he agreed, “and I can tell you are especially strong. I bet you’ll be good as ever sooner than I can blink.”

Myko smiled a bit, though Will had the feeling he was already lost in thought. Even being in the same room, Will felt like Myko was somehow far away. He thought that must be how other people felt about him all the time.

Hannibal returned after some time. Will had no way of knowing how long it had been, but he was sure it couldn’t have been terribly long. Hannibal just wouldn’t have done that. He walked over silently and set a hand on Will’s shoulder, drawing Will’s gaze up to meet his own.

Hannibal handed Will a warm bowl of what Will guessed was some kind of stew. He didn’t offer a long introduction for the dish, adding to the oddly serious and somber atmosphere. Will accepted it silently, and just held it as he watched Hannibal hand one to Myko as well, then sat down next to Will once more. 

Will was starting to feel suffocated by the silence. He wanted someone to start pretending nothing had changed. He wanted them to be able to just talk and interact like they had before everything had happened, but he was terrified of breaking the porcelain floor they were dancing across. 

Eventually, it became too much, and Will pierced the veil of stifling quiet they had been in.

“I wonder what everyone is going to think about me bailing in the middle of the day,” he said, “I don’t make a habit of missing my lectures.”

Hannibal hummed, and the sound was so normal it almost stunned Will. It was as if Hannibal was unaffected by the day’s events.

“I sent an explanation to your superiors as well as your students, on your behalf,” he admitted, “I did not give an in-depth explanation, citing a family emergency. It was rather vague, and I confess you will likely need to elaborate to some, but I thought it best to reassure them sooner than later.”

Will huffed a soft laugh, feeling better with the conversation. It was domestic and calming, despite the fact they were making excuses for a murder.

“I’m glad one of us was in the state of mind to think about that kind of thing,” Will said, “obviously, I’m a complete wreck.”

Hannibal smiled softly.

“I have dealt with my fair share of monsters in my profession,” Hannibal said, “I am well-versed in recovery, and do not have the added difficulty of your amazing empathy. It is only a curse in circumstances such as this.”

Will scoffed. He took a bite of the stew, and was slightly surprised when the flavors spread over his tongue just as richly as ever. He had half expected all his senses to still be dulled and hazy, leaving him without the pleasure of Hannibal’s cooking. He hummed a pleased sound as he ate, knowing it would make Hannibal happy.

“While I would tend to disagree about that,” Will said, “I know by now to choose my battles wisely with you.”

Hannibal smiled.

“I wouldn’t want you to hold your tongue on my account,” he replied, “though I suppose there are more pressing matters.”

Will sighed heavily and nodded, though he really didn’t know what he was going to do.

\---

“Are you sure you cannot stay?” 

Will looked up at Hannibal and searched his maroon eyes. Will didn’t know what he expected to find there, but he didn’t. All he saw was concern and affection. Nothing that could convince him he knew what he needed to do next.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging, “I have dogs to take care of, and papers to grade. I need to catch up on what I messed up in my schedule today.”

Hannibal nodded, offering a small smile. He seemed unsure, and Will didn’t have anything to offer in way of assurance. 

“When can we expect to see you again?” Hannibal asked, sounding hesitant, as if Will might say the answer was never.

Will offered a soft smile.

“Soon,” he said, leaning forward and kissing Hannibal, “I just have to clear my head. I promise I won’t leave you in the dark for long. Just give me some time.”

Hannibal sighed, but he nodded. Will had known he would do that. Hannibal was quite possibly the most qualified person in the world to understand and deal with Will’s mentality. Even when he was not pleased with it, he knew what Will needed and would do what he could to see that he got it.

“Take care of yourself, Will,” Hannibal said, and it sounded more like a plea than anything.

Will nodded sharply and headed to his car.

The world seemed grey, and Will wasn’t sure if it was due to his state of mind or the clouds hanging low overhead. There was certainly something to be said for moods correlating with the weather. His mood was certainly not caused by the gloomy sky, but he felt a strong sense of camaraderie upon looking up and seeing nothing but an ocean of haze. It was as if his emotions were being manifested in the atmosphere, reflecting his mental state into the atmosphere.

The drive back to Wolf Trap was uneventful, and he made it there only a short while after dark. The dogs interrogated him about his absence, but were satisfied when he gave them each a treat and walked them through the yard for more than an hour. He didn’t even mind the mud they each managed to get covered in. The dogs seemed largely unaware of his odd mental state, with the exception of Winston. Of all the dogs, Winston was the most intuitive, and Will almost felt he was closer to human intelligence than a dogs. Winston insisted on staying by his side and frequently grumbled a soft sound, as if he were trying to speak.

Despite everything, Will still had an odd feeling in his chest that didn’t allow him to address the concerns floating around in his head. It was like his brain had turned to cotton, and nothing was completely solid within.

Will sat at his desk, grading papers by the light of a single desk lamp, and he wondered if maybe this was just how everything was going to be from now on. Maybe he would see everything through a grey filter for the rest of his life, because the distinctions he had drawn between his work and his private life had been shattered, and nothing would ever be quite the same again.

Will heard the night come to life outside the house, and insects begin to buzz softly in the grass. He looked up and stared at the tree line through the window, wondering what he would see if his mind could separate his worse impulses and manifest them into something tangible.

As if the mere thought had given direction to his new reality, Will caught movement beside a tree. He looked closer, and came to the realization that whatever it was, it was black. He wouldn’t be able to see it properly. 

Not from inside the house.

Will grabbed a coat and headed to the door, not even sure what he was expecting to find once he got to the trees.


	20. 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mental problems abound

The feathered stag was more elusive than Will had expected. Not that there was a general ground rule of how hallucinations acted. He had just thought it would make itself more obvious to him, having been conjured from his own thoughts.

Will trudged deeper into the woods, nothing but the moon and a few resilient fireflies lighting his path in the cold night air. It occurred to him that he should probably have brought a flashlight or a lamp with him, but he was just as quickly distracted by a flash of feathers ahead of him in the woods.

Will ran ahead, chasing it farther into the woods.

Will felt voices whispering in the back of his head. They tried to remind him of the responsibilities he had. He needed to wake up in a few hours to head to Quantico. He needed to take care of himself, because Hannibal had asked him to. He needed to get back to work so he could help catch the Ripper. 

None of these thoughts even managed to slow Will down. They passed just as quickly as they came, and they didn’t seem quite tangible.

Will found himself in a clearing, unsure when he had come through the tree line. The stag was facing him, pawing at the ground impatiently. It tossed its head as if it was trying to say something to him. 

There was something important that was lingering just out of Will’s reach, and he didn’t know why it was important or what it was. He walked forward, trying to get to the stag, but the creature danced out of reach just like the thoughts of what he needed to know. 

\---

“You look tired, Will.”

Will smiled wryly up at Beverly as she walked into the lecture hall. 

“I didn’t sleep,” he said, “so I am. What’s going on?”

Beverly tipped her head skeptically, but didn’t push. One of the reasons Will could actually get along with her.

“We’ve got a body,” she answered, “Jack wants you to come take a look. You feeling up to it, or should I tell him your family emergency is ongoing?”

Will groaned and rubbed his face.

“No, I’ll come,” he said, “I don’t need Jack to think anything about this is Hannibal’s fault, or something stupid like that. He’s already upset enough with us as it is.”

Beverly nodded in agreement as Will stood up to follow her to the labs. They didn’t talk, because Beverly knew better than to ask about whatever the emergency had been and Will was bad at small talk, so he didn’t ask her anything about herself. He really didn’t actually know that much about her, but he couldn’t ever seem to find the right words to rectify that.

“If you can’t do this, just tell Jack,” Beverly said, stopping outside the labs, “I get it, and I’ll vouch for you. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Will smiled politely and nodded. He didn’t bother arguing about that, because Beverly had enough conviction that she truly believed it. She never had to do anything she didn’t want to, and she thought it was that way for everyone. Maybe it would be, if Will just had her confidence.

They walked in, and Jack immediately descended on Will.

“It’s not the Ripper, we’re pretty sure,” he said pulling Will into the room and towards the body, “but there’s definitely something to it, and I want to know what you think.”

The sheet was pulled back, and Will stared down at the body.

The woman had definitely not been killed by the Ripper, but it was fascinating to look at regardless. 

There were large wounds pierced through her feet and wrists. The blood had not been cleaned away from them, leaving small drips of the dried substance toward her toes and across her wrists. That helped give an idea of her positioning while she had been still alive. 

“Looks like she was crucified, to me,” Price said, pointing at the wounds, “her arms were extended to her sides, making the blood drip around her arms instead of down her hands.”

Will nodded.

“By the positioning in the wrist, it puts her weight on specific tendons and pressure points that make it so she can’t breathe while hanging from them,” he said, “and before anyone suggests it, this wasn’t meant to be a religious reference. This was just an execution, by an archaic method. This was a punishment.”

Zeller grimaced, looking at Will like he was the one who had killed the woman. There was something intrinsically different between Will and Brian, making it so they would never see eye to eye, and Zeller would always find Will off-putting. It hadn’t made either of their jobs harder as of yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“If she died from the crucifixion, you’ll find fluid collected around her heart,” Will continued, ignoring the other man for the time, “Because the heart would have worked harder due to the lack of oxygen, and it damages the tissues and capillaries. She would have ultimately died of a heart attack, though it was caused by suffocation. Her blood loss will be somewhat minimal, the bleeding having been mostly internal. If she was awake for the whole thing, she could have lasted a long time by pushing up on the nails in her feet in order to breathe. Let’s hope he had some more mercy on her.”

Zeller figured out something he could do in an area farther away from Will, and Price stepped closer, a curious glint in his eye.

“And Brian calls me a nerd,” Jimmy said, casting a rueful glance at the other man, “You learn all that from Sunday school?”

Will offered a wry smile, already tired of being around people. He only wanted to be around Hannibal and Myko, but he didn’t think he could face them yet. 

“No. No one ever bothered to go into the details of Christ’s death with me as a child,” he replied, “I learned plenty later on in life, and managed to make a few connections. The human body has worked the same way for thousands of years, give or take a few things. There’s only so many dead bodies one can see before you learn what makes them tick.”

Price didn’t seem perturbed by it all. If anything, he seemed impressed. That was a nice change, but Will knew better than to make it the new standard. It was only a matter of time before he managed to creep out Price and Beverly as well. Zeller was just the first one to catch on that something wasn’t quite right. 

Maybe it was a survival instinct. Will had never considered it that before, but now he knew his own potential for violence, and he couldn’t find it in himself to even be upset that Zeller disliked him.

“I guess I can see why no one ever went through the gory details with a kid,” Price said, continuing with his work as if Will being there was not unusual, something he was grateful for, “Even though there are kids that not only can handle it, but would really absorb it. I was always curious about that kind of thing as a kid. I never performed autopsies on animals or something psycho like that, but I read anatomy books by the tenfold.”

Will looked over Price, studying him for the first time since they had met. 

What he said was true, Will could see that much. Price had been an intelligent child, probably called genius by his parents. There was some obvious competition there, likely with his twin. They had probably been different in their skillsets, one being academically gifted while the other had been more prone to arts, whether that be writing, musical, or visual. Jimmy had gotten the book smarts, but had always wished, in the deepest parts of his mind, that he was more inclined to be artistic like his twin. The subtle envy would have been reciprocated, the twin wishing they could be more scholastic like Jimmy.

Will felt a sudden disconnect from the man. He hadn’t really felt close to him before, but thinking about the close relationship he had enjoyed with his sibling and his parents was too foreign to him. As much as he could understand it in the man, it didn’t extend to himself. He had never had those things, and he was suddenly hit with the realization that they were just so different.

Before, Jimmy had just been a nerd who could be useful, and who appreciated Will’s odd bits of information. Now, he was some person with a life.

And Will had the power to take it from him.

“Are you okay?”

Will snapped back to himself, realizing he had clenched his hands so tight into fists that they were beginning to hurt. He consciously loosened his muscles and took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he said, feeling like it was a lie, “just thinking. This woman had to be guilty of something terrible for the killer to do this to her, or at least he thinks she is. This is execution, which means it’s punishment for a crime or a sin. More likely a crime, because I know this wasn’t a religious thing.”

Beverly looked at Will with an expression showing just how much she doubted that he was really okay, but she shrugged.

“We’ll do a run up of her and see if anything pops out,” she said, “but I think your family emergency has really done a number on you. You need some sleep.”

Will sighed and ran a hand over his face. Jack caught his eye, and Will could tell he agreed with Beverly.

“Alright. I’ll do what I can, but don’t keep me in the dark. I need updates on anything you find here. I want to catch this guy as quick as we can. There are bigger fish to fry.”

Jack grinned, and Will knew he wanted to pat Will on the back as he walked out of the labs. He was grateful the man remembered not to.

Will made his way back to his lecture hall, having missed one of his lectures already. He resisted the urge to cancel his last class for the day and head directly to Hannibal’s house. He still had a lot to think about before he could let himself see them again, no matter how much he wanted to.

Will sat at his desk and pulled out the Ripper file, feeling like he might be able to procrastinate the actual thoughts he should be going over until he was home.

Will looked over the details of several scenes, remembering with a start that he had realized something about the Ripper that he had yet to tell Jack. It had been just before the ordeal with Myko, making it feel like it had been a lifetime ago. Will was no longer the same person he had been then, or maybe he was. It didn’t really matter.

The Ripper was eating the organs he took from the victims.

Will huffed a sharp sigh and leaned back in his chair. He scowled at the papers as he continued to think that over.

It didn’t quite make sense. 

The Ripper was a man of fine taste. He wasn’t like the other cannibal killers that had been caught. None of his motivations were sexual, or driven by hate. He didn’t desire to keep any part of the victim with him, and he didn’t feel the need to have them become part of him. He was already stronger and smarter than them. He had nothing to gain by consuming them.

And to add onto all that, the Ripper was a man of fine taste. He created paintings and sculptures with his kills. He elevated their mortal forms to something more beautiful than they could have been while alive. He would not toss a piece of flesh into a frying pan with a pat of butter and some salt and call it good. He wouldn’t eat any part of them unless he could make that piece just as beautiful and worthy as the tableaus.

Like the way Hannibal cooked.

Will smiled as he thought of Hannibal. The man treated his food with reverence, as if it wasn’t just food. He honored it as the force of life. Providing fuel to the body and soul alike. The way Hannibal talked about cooking, like it was one of the highest forms of art. How one should not just eat of necessity, but for enjoyment as well.

Will decided the Ripper would think about food that way.

Unbidden, the memories of Rhett rose to the surface.

_ “You wouldn’t have killed them if you loved them.” _

_ “He’s a psychopath” _

_ “You know about him, and you’re still gonna marry him?” _

Will frowned again. There was something there that he still wasn’t quite putting together. 

What had Rhett been talking about? What did he know, or think he knew, about Hannibal? Who did he think Hannibal had killed?

Rhett had been referring to Hannibal’s past spouses. Will knew that much. He thought Hannibal had killed them. But Will knew he had loved them. He had seen the pain in Hannibal’s face when he talked about Dante and Maria. He knew his heart had been broken when they died.

But, that was only two of his spouses. Hannibal had only defended his love of those same two. He hadn’t claimed to have loved Kalliope or Paris or Locke. He hadn’t said he didn’t kill them. He was always so _damn_ good at deflecting questions without giving a real answer.

And Will was so damn stupid.

Hannibal, a man with a medical background, a love for art and beauty, fine taste, and an interest in cooking. The fishing lure had appeared after Hannibal had shown interest in Will. He had been sending messages to Will through the scenes, and Will hadn’t even recognized the handwriting of the notes. Everything fit the profile Will had been building of the Ripper for years. Even the small things he had noticed or added along the way. They all matched Hannibal like and overlay. Will had been looking at the same man twice, and had never realized they even looked alike. 

Will had _confided_ in Hannibal. He had talked about what the Ripper was saying to him, and how he felt about the voice he heard. Will had trusted him to not react badly, not knowing he was actually pandering to the man’s sense of pride and superiority.

What if he was wrong?

Will could very well be experiencing a mental break. He had already hallucinated once. He couldn’t trust that he wasn’t making connections that weren’t there. He could be seeing things that weren’t real. 

He could ruin everything if he made this accusation. If he was right, Myko would be essentially orphaned when Hannibal was incarcerated. He would have to live his entire life with the reputation of being the Chesapeake Ripper’s child. If he was wrong, how could he expect Hannibal and Myko to forgive him for even _suggesting_ something so terrible? 

Will stared at the silver band around his finger and twisted it while he thought. 

The entire time Will had been wearing the ring, he had felt comfort in its presence. He could just touch it and remember that there were people out there who actually cared about him. He could remind himself that he was _real_ , and appreciated, and wanted. That was gone now.

Will pulled the ring off and put it into his pocket.

His suspicions were either a betrayal to the man he loved, or they were going to break the relationship regardless. He didn’t feel like he could rightly wear the ring with all these thoughts pelting his mind.

Will put the file away and prepared for his last lecture of the day. He didn’t think he would be able to be completely present for the class, but he had worked without the full use of his mind before. The students would probably notice, but they wouldn’t say anything. They would have heard he was going through a “family emergency”, and would be too polite to ask. He was glad for that, as well as his reputation for not being very open with his personal life. 


	21. 21

Will woke, choking and gasping for breath. He was covered in sweat, which had soaked through his clothes and into the mattress. He bolted upright in bed and shivered as the cool night air hit his damp skin.

Reflexively, Will’s thumb rubbed over his ring finger, only to be met with his slightly indented skin. 

Reality crashed back down onto him, and he wished he hadn’t woken up. It would have been better to be trapped in the nightmare his mind had created for him than to be thrust back into the one that the universe had orchestrated.

Will stripped off his soaked clothes, rolling out of bed to get into the shower. The dogs stirred slightly at his movements, but he shushed them gently and they settled again. 

Will turned the water to boiling and stepped under the stream. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t feel the heat. He washed quickly, scrubbing the salt of sweat from his skin, and turned the water to the other end, making it freezing. Again, Will didn’t feel the cold, but his body reacted with shivers regardless. He felt his teeth chatter and he stood under the stream for a few minutes before he turned off the water and stepped out.

Will dressed, deciding it was close enough to actual waking hours that he didn’t need to go back to sleep. Not that he would have been able to sleep again if he had tried.

Will made food for the dogs, petting them as they each woke up and came to investigate his early morning activities. 

At least the dogs hadn’t changed.

Will spent hours trying to get work done. He would manage to grade one or two papers before his thoughts became blurry again and he had to do something to reset. He would work on a lure or take the dogs on a walk, watching as the sun slowly crawled over the horizon and warmed the air around his house.

Despite technically knowing what was causing his distance from reality, he wasn’t having any luck pinpointing any stray thoughts that triggered his moments of remoteness. Only a vague sense of drowning emotions managed to surface when Will tried to identify his thoughts. 

Eventually, it was finally time for Will to head into town. 

He packed up for his classes, making sure each of the dogs was prepared to be left, and headed out to the car.

Will was pulling away from his house when his phone rang. He knew it was Jack without looking, even though he was surprised to be hearing from him. He had just looked at a body the day before, and he hadn’t expected a new one to drop so soon.

“It’s the Ripper,” Jack said without preamble.

Will didn’t answer right away. He should have been expecting this. He should have known.

“Are you sure?” Will asked, though he didn’t have any doubt it was true.

“As sure as I can be without you here yet,” Jack replied, “are you on your way to Quantico right now?”

“Yeah,” Will said, readying himself to change destinations.

“Good. It’s close,” Jack said.

Will listened as Jack gave him an address. He was right. It was close to Quantico. So close it was almost unthinkable that someone could have planted a body there without being caught.

But the Ripper never slipped up. Will knew that well enough by this point.

Will felt the familiar sensation of his thoughts blurring, and he let them. He passed the drive without noticing anything consciously.

\---

Will stared at the body, feeling reality crash into place around him. 

It was tragically beautiful. 

The horror of the death was staged as a medium through which art was created. The scene was grotesque and dazzling. Will couldn’t tear his eyes away, despite the bile he felt rising in the back of his throat.

It was definitely the Ripper. And it was definitely Hannibal.

Will retched, and his stomach emptied onto the few inches of snow as his knees buckled and threatened to drop him directly into the mess he was making.

Luckily he wasn’t near enough to the body to be causing a lot of trouble by vomiting.

Will waved away a few agents who had moved forward to help. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and continued toward the body. 

The man had been eviscerated. Will would have put a bet on there being no organs left inside the body. Except maybe one.

There were pearls carefully stitched to the skin of his forehead, creating a crown that glittered in the morning sun. There were delicate flowers woven into his dark hair, hair that was far too similar to Will’s own for comfort. More flowers poured from the empty cavity of his abdomen, and there were flowers trailing down from his shoulders until they landed in small bouquets in his hands. The man’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to be at peace. 

Will cursed loudly enough he startled a few of the forensic guys as they scurried around.

“What do you see, Will?” Jack asked, walking up to stand just behind him.

Will ran a hand over his face, and thought he just might be feverish.

“The flowers,” Will began, “they’re from Hamlet. The flowers Ophelia hands out. Rosemary and Pansies in the hair, for remembrance and thought. The daisies in his stomach are for innocence, but they’ve been tainted. They are the only flowers that he allowed to get blood on them. The Rue and Violets are for repentance and faithfulness. The Ripper is writing a love letter. He’s telling someone that they are intelligent, and to hold onto the good memories they have. He’s also admitting to having tainted their innocence, or even having destroyed it. He’s apologizing for that, while also promising that he has been faithful to whoever the letter is for.”

Jack watched Will for a moment, clearly trying to figure out if Will was still mentally stable enough to even be there.

“The last letter was meant for you,” Jack reminded him, “is this one for you too?”

Will shook his head, lying to himself and Jack in the same moment.

“I don’t know who this is for,” he said, tasting the bile in his mouth as he continued to lie, “someone he’s close to. Someone he knows intimately, and they have recently had some sort of disagreement or challenge. He is complimenting them and promising to do better in the future. I don’t know what is going to happen now. I don’t know if he’s done, or if he’s changing, or if he’s going to start accelerating his kills. I don’t know anymore. I can’t figure him out.”

Jack was not happy, but he was also concerned. His worry bled into the air around him, encompassing the entire scene and making it harder for Will to breathe. 

“I’m taking you off the case,” Jack said carefully, as if Will would be spooked by the statement and lash out, “I can tell it isn’t good for you, and you need a break before I put you on anything else. Go get some rest. Spend time with your family. Get better.”

It was a dismissal, and Will knew it. He nodded silently and headed back to his car. 

Almost without consciously deciding to, Will headed to Hannibal’s office. Myko would be in school, and Hannibal would have a few hours before his next patient. Will knew their schedules to near perfection, and he knew he needed to talk to Hannibal.

As Will entered the waiting room, he put his hand in his pocket and felt the cool metal of the ring he still hadn’t put back on. 

He couldn’t keep living in denial. It would ruin not only his relationship with Hannibal and Myko, but it would ruin his mental health and his ability to function in reality.

He had to confront the real possibility of Hannibal being the person he had been hunting. He had to discuss it with Hannibal, and allow the man to either confirm or deny the accusation. Hannibal deserved to have a chance to defend himself.

But did he?

If Will was right, and Hannibal was the killer, did he really deserve even this mercy? Didn’t he deserve to be taken by surprise, a SWAT team breaking down his door and dragging him away from his cushy life? Didn’t he deserve to be hurt like that?

But Myko didn’t deserve that.

Even if Hannibal deserved to be hurt, Will couldn’t justify hurting a child. He couldn’t do that to him. Will had to be absolutely sure he was doing what was right, and then he had to do whatever he could to keep Myko safe from it all. He had to protect Myko, no matter the cost.

Hannibal’s door opened upon hearing Will pacing feverishly in the waiting room.

Hannibal looked unsure, perhaps a bit cautious. 

Will didn’t take the time to figure out how he felt about that. He just pushed past Hannibal and stalked into the office. He heard the door close and lock behind him, making a chill run up his spine. He ran a hand nervously through his hair, trying to figure out how he was going to approach this.

“You are not wearing your ring,” Hannibal noted, his tone painfully detached.

Will turned and looked at him, feeling the weight of the world settle on his shoulders. He was already exhausted, and he hadn’t even started doing the really difficult thing. He had a lot of work to do yet, and it was going to be an uphill climb for a long way.

Will sighed and walked over to Hannibal. 

“Give me your hands,” he ordered quietly, though his tone left no room for argument.

Hannibal offered his hands, palms up, tipping his head curiously as he waited for Will to do what he was going to.

Will pulled the ring from his pocket and dropped it into one of the open hands, holding up a finger to tell Hannibal he wasn’t done. Then, he pulled his gun from his holster and placed it in the other hand.

“I’m sure-” Hannibal began, but Will cut him off.

“You are going to want to have one of these after I start talking, and I can’t promise what I’ll do if I have them. Don’t say anything yet. Just- just give me a minute,” Will said, taking a breath and pressing his hands to his eyes.

“Okay, listen,” he said after a moment, “I know for a fact that I’m not perfectly sane in this moment. I’ve been having a few hallucinations, but that’s not the biggest problem here. The biggest problem I’m having is I just left a crime scene, and the only thing I got from it was that the man I am engaged to has been leaving me bodies.”

Hannibal’s fingers curled around both the objects he was holding, and Will paced away from him, not going toward the door and pushing Hannibal to make a decision that quickly.

“I haven’t told anyone what I think,” Will told him honestly, “but I’m really damn on the verge of doing something that I can’t undo. Whatever you do or say had better fix this so that I don’t have to hate you for making me ruin Myko’s life. Right now, that’s one of the only things protecting you.”

Hannibal lowered both his hands a bit, staring at his two given options. Will knew he was probably processing at a million miles a minute to try to come up with another option. Something that would keep the peace, restoring the life they had been enjoying. Perhaps even wanting Will to learn to accept this part of him and go with him despite it.

Slowly, and with silent deliberation, Hannibal turned the gun to hold it properly and aimed it directly at Will’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XD Cliffhanger, anybody???  
> Tbh, I stayed up into the dead middle of the night in order to finish this in time to post, and the chapter still ended up being shorter than normal. I'm sorry.


	22. 22

Will felt a tear fall down his cheek, but he smiled. 

He was actually  _ doing _ something, and if it was all over for him, then that was the end. If Hannibal killed him now, he wouldn’t have to make this impossible decision. Hannibal could go home and take care of Myko, and they could still be happy.

And Will didn’t have to live with regret.

“Do you expect me to kill you?” Hannibal asked, breaking the silence.

Will stared at the man. Hannibal’s expression was peculiarly empty, as if his emotions were no longer connected to his features. Will didn’t know what he was feeling, and it made his head spin.

“It’s the logical thing for you to do, don’t you think?” Will replied, “you get to continue living your life happily and comfortably, and I’m not forced to do something I’ll regret. It would be easier for both of us.”

Hannibal nodded, but he lowered the gun. He removed the clip, and dropped them both onto one of the chairs. 

Will watched, not sure what was happening. 

“You are correct,” Hannibal stated, “that is the logical conclusion of this scenario you have set up for us.”

Hannibal stepped toward Will a bit, watching as if he expected Will to suddenly dart away from him.

“However, I have no intention of killing you.”

Will frowned.

“Why not?” he asked, thoughts whirling in stunned confusion. 

Hannibal was  _ always _ logical. He did everything to serve  _ his  _ purposes, protecting himself and satisfying his desires. Will had  _ seen _ it in every decision he made, dealing with people and his tableaus. Will had seen it from every angle.

But he knew Hannibal actually didn’t always do that.

Not when it involved Myko.

Or Will.

“I have never told you a lie, Will,” Hannibal said, his tone distant and unfamiliar, “when I told you I have loved no one as much as I love you, that was the truth. When I told you I intend to protect you as a part of my family, that was the truth. Both of them are still true. If you were hopeful that I would take this, the easiest and most logical path, you are unfortunately doomed to disappointment.” 

Will closed his eyes and let out a long breath. 

“What do you expect me to do now?” Will asked, feeling hopeless, “now that I know. You’re putting me in a damn  _ difficult _ situation.”

Hannibal sighed softly.

“I have never been able to predict you, Will,” he said softly, “and I do not have any expectations for how you will act now. I had very much hoped that little would change when all came to light. That is why I had not planned to tell you just yet.”

Will scoffed and glared at Hannibal.

“Oh, so you  _ planned _ to tell me? That’s a relief. The Chesapeake Ripper didn’t plan to keep me in the dark for our  _ entire _ relationship. Maybe a few years  _ after _ we got married, right? Maybe when we were old, and I was starting to lose my memories? Maybe when no one would listen to me, because I was just senile?  _ How comforting _ .”

Hannibal winced, clearly uncomfortable now that they were addressing the part of his “plan” that he hadn’t perfectly choreographed yet.

“I promise it was nothing so cruel,” he said, “and there have even been times when I wondered if you were ready.”

Will stepped forward and punched Hannibal square in the face, feeling skin split. It was a satisfying feeling, but he hated himself for liking it.

“I’m not a child!” he shouted, “You don’t get to decide when I’m  _ ready _ the same way you decide when Myko can read Macbeth! We are supposed to be fair with each other, and trust each other. I have told you the absolute worst parts of me, because I knew  _ you _ wouldn’t turn away. I thought you trusted me enough to do the same, but you can’t even tell me  _ this _ . Even though you knew how I felt about it.”

Hannibal didn’t meet Will’s eyes. One of the only times he couldn’t bring himself to. He passed his tongue over the split in his lip, wiping away the blood that had begun to ooze from it.

“I admit I have made mistakes,” Hannibal said, “but I am giving you control now. You have the power to decide where we are to go from here. You can turn me in, satisfying your conscience and saving future lives. You can walk out of that door, and I will make no attempt to change your mind. You can accompany me to my home this evening, and we can discuss the future together as we have before. Whatever you decide, I will honor it to the best of my ability.”

Will laughed. Once he started laughing, he couldn’t stop himself. He fell to his knees, laughing and sobbing. Tears streamed down his face, but he was laughing hysterically.

Maybe this was what would do it. This was how he would lose his mind completely. Having a serial killer promise to honor his wishes. After all the strain his mental health had put on it recently, he wouldn’t be surprised if this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Will?” Hannibal said, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant.

“If you don’t kill me right now, Hannibal, I don’t have any choice but to tell Jack what I know.”

It wasn’t really a warning, threat, or honestly the truth. It was a question. Will needed to know how Hannibal would respond.

“Do not lie to me now, Will,” Hannibal admonished, though he still sounded tense, “you always have a choice. You had a choice when you first suspected me. You had a choice when you found my second message. You had a choice when you walked into this room. There are infinite choices placed before you at every turn. You have the ability to choose the course our lives take from this moment on. I trust you will choose wisely.”

Will buried his face in his hands, feeling the salt from his tears rubbing his skin raw. He’d heard once that it was good for the complexion. Maybe he should cry more often.

That was really a concern, now. He was absolutely losing his mind.

Will stood up, trembling and feeling exhausted from the intense emotions he had just allowed his body to process.

“Don’t,” was the only word Will could manage as he walked out. 

That one word expressed what he was doing, and he knew Hannibal would understand it well enough.

Don’t follow me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t reach out. Don’t do anything stupid. 

The only person who could love me is a serial killer, Will thought bitterly, sitting in his car without the energy or motivation to start the engine, I thought I was actually doing alright. I thought life was looking up. Turns out a light looks a lot brighter when you’re standing in a dark room. When the rest of the lights turn on, you realize it was just a candle.

The dogs were confused when he finally made it home. They were intuitive creatures, and they could tell there was something very, very wrong with him.

Will went through the motions of his day, taking the dogs out on a walk and feeding them. All the while, he ignored the specter that followed in his periphery. The ravenstag haunted him, and Will couldn’t decide if it was a reflection of his poor life choices, or just something his broken cognition had conjured to torture him more fully.

\---

Will taught his classes, unable to truly focus on the subject matter. He knew the students noticed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

No one interrupted his class, nor did they come looking for him. Jack really was concerned about his well being, apparently, and was determined to let him regain his energy before bothering him again.

But Will really could have used the distraction. He wished he didn’t have so much time left to his thoughts. 

And he wished his thoughts could be more painful, in a way.

He was angry with Hannibal, but he couldn’t find the energy to hate the man. He didn’t hate the murders, or the deaths, or the cannibalism. He didn’t hate the tableaus, or the operas, or the cooking. He didn’t hate a single thing about Hannibal, and he wished he did.

Hannibal deserved to be hated. He had betrayed Will’s trust in one of the worst possible ways. Will had earned the right to hate him.

But he didn’t.

Will still wanted to go to him. He still wanted to see Hannibal, and Myko, and to talk to them over dinner. He still wanted to feel Hannibal’s warm skin and to hear his soft voice. Will wanted Hannibal to tell him it would all be okay again.

But he knew he shouldn’t want any of those things. Not anymore.

Being stuck in his own head was the worst kind of torture Will could have come up with for himself. There was nothing more dangerous, or more detrimental.

It didn’t help that the ravenstag had taken to haunting his every waking moment as well as his dreams. Will sometimes forgot it was there, until it would walk directly into his line of sight, causing him to jump and making him seem as unstable as he probably was.

But Will didn’t trust a single psychiatrist to help him. He had trusted one psychiatrist once, and he may never make that mistake again.

What was wrong with him? Maybe he needed to talk to someone, because there had to be something wrong.

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t any physical illness, though. He wasn’t experiencing any fevers or loss of time, or any physical symptoms. It was just the nightmares and hallucinations. He was losing his mind.

And he didn’t have an anchor to reality anymore. He had been unmoored, and couldn’t see the shore any longer. He was lost.

And then the gifts started arriving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither of them is dead! So, that's good.


	23. 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has a breakdown or two.

Will stared down at the pair of gloves left on the front seat of his car. Being all the way out in Wolf Trap, and not likely to have been stumbled upon by accident, Will knew they could only have come from one person.

Hannibal.

Hannibal had driven all the way out to Will’s home, during the night, in order to leave him a pair of gloves.

With the gift lay a delicate paper crane, that Will had no doubt the man had folded himself. 

Will huffed and tossed both of them onto the passenger seat, sliding in behind the wheel and starting the car. He could see his breath in the cold morning air, and he eyed the gloves next to him as he rubbed his hands together. 

Will knew Hannibal must know he didn’t already own a quality pair of gloves. The man would not have given him something he already had. Hannibal would have wanted the gift to be accepted, and he knew Will would not have wanted to have a surplus. Will was frugal, in that way, and Hannibal had honored that as long as they had known each other, though he hadn’t necessarily agreed with the mindset.

Will pulled the gloves on and started on his way to Quantico. 

He was not forgiving Hannibal. Will could not be bought with gifts. Hannibal could not bring him things, like a cat leaving dead mice on the doorstep, and earn his trust back. The fact that he was wearing the gloves meant nothing other than he had cold hands, and a need for them. He wasn’t going to refuse a gift when he actually needed it.

And his hands were very warm on his way to work that day.

\---

Will pulled the gloves on as he walked out to his car, the early morning light only just starting to warm the air on the cold winter morning.

There was another gift on the front seat today. It was in a large, crisp envelope, a paper crane set delicately on top. 

Will shook his head at himself as he slid in and turned on the engine to warm the car up before he picked up the envelope. He gently opened it, pulling out a piece of paper he instantly recognized.

It was the drawing Hannibal had made of him. Will looked down at himself on the paper, his hands busy tying the stems of clovers together and the sun reflecting off his hair in a way Will was sure Hannibal had invented. Will had watched as Hannibal had drawn this, taking his time and determined to make every detail perfect. Hannibal had cared so much about showing Will how he saw him in this picture. 

And Will could see it.

The Will in the picture was gentle and smart, and beautiful. 

How had he not realized, that day, that Hannibal was the Ripper? He had just explained the artistic hand that had created the tableaus to the team, and had dissected the imagery and meaning of each of his aesthetic choices. He had thought there was something familiar about seeing Hannibal creating art, as he watched him sketch this out, yet he hadn’t put the pieces together that the hands of one artist could be those of the other.

Will sighed at himself, his breath creating a light puff of fog in the air as he carefully slipped the picture back into the envelope and made his way to work. 

Will slid the envelope into the top drawer of his desk, setting the new crane down on the front of it with the one from the day before. He stared at it until the first students started wandering in, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

One of the more clever students cast an intrigued glance at the two paper cranes. She looked Will over as if she could read his mental state just like that, and he wondered if she could. He didn’t doubt there were people like him out there in the world, at least when it came to his empathy and knack for psychology. He knew well enough that he was uniquely cursed to have his darker inclinations paired with them, though, and this girl probably didn’t suffer from the desire to kill someone simply because she wanted to know what blood tastes like right from the throat.

The girl shrugged, more to herself than anything, and turned to take her seat. Will wondered exactly how much she could understand. He hoped she would do better with her life than he had with his.

At lunch time, Will was just settling in behind his desk to work on some papers when Beverly walked in.

Will glanced up and knew what she was going to say before she said it. She was the only one who had taken the time to notice that he was no longer wearing the ring, but she had respected him enough not to mention it.

Apparently, that could only last so long before she became concerned.

“What’s going on with you and Lecter?” Beverly asked, folding her arms to make it clear there was no room to avoid answering. She was going to get an answer.

Will sighed and rubbed his face. He hadn’t been sleeping well since he last saw Hannibal, and his mind had been rebelling against him with hallucinations and nightmares more than he had ever had before.

“We had a bit of an argument, and I’m feeling strange,” he confessed, though it was vague, “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

Beverly frowned.

“I don’t know what you two possibly have to argue about,” she said, “and I don’t want to intrude. All I have to say is that he’s good for you. You’ve been happier and healthier since meeting him than you ever were before. Everyone noticed. Now, you’re really taking a spiral. Is there anything I can do to help? Anything I can say?”

Will shook his head, dropping it down so his chin almost rested against his chest. The hooves of the ravenstag clacked against the floor, echoing in his head. He knew Beverly couldn’t see or hear it.

“I could really use some sane advice,” he admitted, “I feel like I’m losing my mind, but I can’t ask Hannibal to fix it this time.”

Beverly gave him a sympathetic glance. She pulled up a chair and sat down facing Will, staring at him with soft expectation.

“Alright. Tell me what’s been going on. If not in your relationship, then in your life. I want to help you out, boy, and this is your chance.”

Will nodded, taking a breath and steeling himself for what he was going to say.

“Well, after our argument, when I took off the ring and told him to leave me alone for a while, I started having nightmares again. I used to have them all the time, and they had started to go away before I met Hannibal, but I haven’t had one since meeting him. Until now. I just, I don’t think it was healthy. Our relationship. He wasn’t telling me things that I needed to know. He was keeping some really big things from me, and I don’t know how to forgive him for that.”

Beverly nodded slowly, taking it all in.

“If he had told you from the start, how would you have felt about it?” Beverly asked, tipping her head.

Will stopped. He didn’t know how to respond to that.

If Hannibal had told him right from the start that he was a serial killer. No, the Chesapeake Ripper. How would Will have responded? Would he have turned him in? Would he have shot him? Would he have done something that would make Hannibal kill him?

“I would never have talked to him again,” Will said, knowing that was probably the extent of how he would have reacted. 

He had never thought of himself that way, but he knew now that he had always felt a connection to this killer, and wouldn’t have wanted the game to stop. He wouldn’t have wanted Hannibal to be caught, or the tableaus would stop. He would have avoided the man in order to satisfy his conscience, telling himself it had been a joke in bad taste. He would be able to see the art the man created, and would have continued with his life as if they had never met.

Beverly nodded again.

“Do you believe Hannibal really loves you?” she asked, clearly trying to make a point to Will.

Will nodded.

“I know he does,” he confessed quietly, “it’s about one of the only things I really know anymore.”

“How do you feel about him, now that you know this big secret?” she continued, leading Will down the path of proper processing. 

This was how normal people were supposed to deal with their relationship problems, Will realized. This was how people dealt with small things. Normal things.

“I still love him,” he admitted, “and I know that I loved that part of him even before I knew it was there. I know that the only thing that has changed is my trust. I don’t know if I can trust him. I trusted him to tell me this kind of thing. There were so many times it would have been better. He never told me. He waited for me to find out.”

Beverly sighed softly.

“And that was wrong of him,” she agreed, “but you love him. Would it have changed anything about how you feel if you had known sooner?”

Will felt his heart sink, because he knew where this was going. He knew she was right. The reason he was upset about it was because this was not a normal problem. He shouldn’t be able to reconcile the ideas of a killer with the man he loved. This wasn’t the same as if Hannibal had cheated on him, or had lied about who Myko’s mother was. Honestly, Will suspected he would be more upset if one of those were true.

Which was why this was such a damn problem.

“I would still have fallen in love with him if I had known,” Will admitted, “If I had known he had been keeping it from me, I would have just been patient, and waited for him to be ready to tell me.”

Beverly smiled softly.

“I get that this doesn’t fix everything,” she said, “but I hope it’ll help a bit as you work through this. Just try to keep that in mind.”

Will nodded, but he was just in pain now. He had been numb for the past few days, able to ignore how he felt about it all. Now, he was being forced to face his own thoughts and feelings, and he hurt.

“Thanks,” Will said.

Beverly had to get back to the labs, but Will could tell she felt like she had helped. In the long run, maybe she had.

\---

Will flipped through the first few chapters of the book. He had found it on the porch, wrapped in plastic to protect it from frost and snow. The paper crane had been perched on top of it, and Will had felt the sudden urge to crush it in his fist. Instead, he twirled it in his fingers as he looked through the book.

Hannibal knew Will better than anyone. He hated that fact, because not only had they not really known each other for very long, but because Hannibal had somehow managed to crawl so far under his skin that Will hadn’t realized he wasn’t supposed to be there. 

Will didn’t just tell people what books he liked. No one bothered to ask, and he had never felt the desire to have anyone know things about him like that.

Until Hannibal.

Hannibal had wanted to know everything. Will had found himself telling Hannibal things that he had never told anyone else. Things that were mundane and unimportant, but that Hannibal had made sure to remember and treasure as cherished bits of Will’s soul.

So, here Will was, holding a book he only distantly remembered mentioning to Hannibal. 

Will hadn’t wanted to contact Hannibal. He had hoped to just be able to ignore the man until the message got across. 

But he had thought of something he needed to ask.

“Will,” Hannibal said, his voice sounding relieved through the phone when he answered.

“Does Myko know?” Will asked, not giving Hannibal the courtesy of a returned greeting.

There was a pause, and Will wondered if Hannibal would tell him the truth. Surely, he wouldn’t dare lie now, if he really wanted Will to forgive him.

“Yes,” Hannibal replied, “Mykolas is well aware of my activities.”

Will closed his eyes, biting his tongue hard to keep himself from swearing aloud and shouting at Hannibal.

“Do you intend to fold a thousand of these, to grant your wish?” Will asked, moving on to avoid doing something he might regret.

“If it takes one thousand days or more, I will not rest until I have repaired what I have damaged,” Hannibal vowed, though he sounded incredibly tired.

If Will didn’t know better, he would say Hannibal hadn’t been sleeping much better than himself. The man had always been better at taking care of himself than Will was, and Will knew he would not have started to neglect himself now. He would eat and sleep on schedule, just as he always had. His responsibility to Myko would make sure of it, if nothing else.

“How is Myko?” Will asked, the words catching in his throat and nearly choking him. The one thing he regretted more than anything about their current situation was that it might harm Myko. All children deserve better than that, and he loved Myko.

There was a slight pause at that, and Will wondered why Hannibal would hesitate. Something had to be wrong.

“He is refusing to eat anything I make,” Hannibal confessed, sounding pained by the admission, “he will only eat food that is packaged or bought.”

Will felt his heart plummet. 

Myko was being hurt. Myko was trying to punish Hannibal, or something of the like, and he was hurting himself in the process. Will knew Hannibal would buy enough food to keep Myko from starving himself, but there was no way on earth Myko actually preferred it that way. Will knew Myko would not be happy with this change, and he didn’t know what to do.

Will felt incredibly selfish, suddenly. He was hurting others because he had been hurt. That was not how he should be taking care of things. He shouldn’t think that was the proper way to respond. Even if Hannibal deserved to be hurt, why did Will think he deserved to be the one to hurt him? And Myko didn’t deserve any of it, so why had Will decided to let him be hurt?

Will had been choosing to act for himself, when he should have been looking out for those around him. He was being selfish.

Without saying another word, Will hung up the phone and fell to his knees. He clutched at his head, feeling the warm puffs of breath from the ravenstag as it stood over him. The creature didn’t seem worried about him. It was just there to remind him of his own deteriorating state.

Will cried, unable to stop himself. 


	24. 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will comes to some difficult realizations

Everyone was starting to look worried around Will.

The students would frown and cast concerned glances at him periodically, likely because he jumped at every tap of a foot or dropped pen. Jack came by several times just to see how he was doing, not even trying to get him interested in a case, or something Will would have expected. Beverly brought him coffee and snacks every so often, reminding him that he needed to do something about his mental and physical health, preferably sooner than later.

Will was just watching the row of paper cranes grow longer, and shoving the gifts into a pile in his kitchen. He tried not to think about Hannibal, but it was  _ actually _ impossible. 

Part of what made it so impossible was the thought of Myko continuing to refuse the food Hannibal made for him. The longer it went on, the more unhappy Myko would be, and the more frustrated Hannibal would become. Will knew his thinking was compromised, because he hated the thought of Myko being unhappy more than the thought of Hannibal murdering innocent people. 

This was not how one  _ should _ react to this kind of revelation.

Will had been “reacting” this way for far too long for him to be able to explain it away as shock. He was cognizant, and fully aware of the repercussions of his actions. Every day he didn’t turn Hannibal in was another life he was juggling blindfolded. Hannibal could have killed dozens of people in the time Will had spent debating whether or not he would turn him in, and all the while Will knew it was a possibility.

And why  _ didn’t _ that bother him?

Was Will’s sense of morality tainted by the fact that he had actually killed someone now? He had intentionally, brutally killed someone with nothing but his hands, a knife, and his teeth. Had that corrupted him so thoroughly that he was now incapable of making an ethical decision?

Will couldn’t believe that. He couldn’t allow himself to.

On the way home from work, Will had found himself heading towards Hannibal’s instead. It had happened a few times, and every time it became harder for him to correct his route. He knew it was only a matter of time before his resolve wore down and he went back. He just hated that fact more than he hated Hannibal.

And that was the problem.

Finally, after weeks of fighting, Will found himself parked in front of Hannibal’s home. 

Will knew the fight would be over the moment he set eyes on the man. The moment he heard Hannibal’s voice in person. The moment Hannibal looked at him with that soft expression he always had. 

This was Will’s last chance to avoid that. He could drive away. He didn’t have to surrender to Hannibal. He could still fight against it. He could still leave.

Will got out of the car. The ravenstag trotted alongside him as he walked.

Will stopped several times on his way up to the door, feeling opposing pulls within himself. He never turned or took a step back, but he would halt completely and argue with himself for minutes at a time as he just stood there. The ravenstag frequently urged him forward, apparently on Hannibal’s side. It took him a long time to actually make it up to the door, and even longer to let himself actually ring the doorbell.

When Hannibal opened the door, he looked a  _ mess _ . 

Of course, he was dressed as impeccably as ever, though his tie was a bit loose and his hair was a bit askew. He had dark circles under his eyes and his posture was not as straight at usual.

Hannibal’s eyes lit up with hope when he realized who was standing on his doorstep, and he smiled hesitantly. 

“Hello, Will,” he said, his mental exhaustion showing through his voice as well, “Please, come in.”

Will nodded silently, only able to stare at the man and drink in the sight as he entered the house he had been avoiding for nearly a month.

“Would you like something to drink?” Hannibal asked, leading Will into the kitchen, though he walked just a touch slower than normal.

Will shrugged.

“Sure. Whatever you’ve got, I guess,” he replied, studying the slightly hunched shoulders of the man he had thought incapable of being imperfect, once.

“I have just made some tea,” Hannibal offered, “would that suffice?”

Will nodded when Hannibal turned to face him for the response. Hannibal poured them both a cup of tea, and they drank in mutual silence for a few long moments. Will could feel Hannibal’s gaze on him like a comforting weight. He didn’t want to feel better in the man’s presence, but Hannibal had always been a safe place for him, and there was no changing that now.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Will confessed at length. 

The ravenstag chuffed unhappily at his elbow, making him flinch. It pawed at the hard floor of the kitchen, making loud echoes that Will hated. He hated that Hannibal wouldn’t be able to hear it.

“Why do you think you have come here, Will?” Hannibal asked, treading carefully.

Will sighed, running a hand over his face.

“You conditioned me to be  _ dependent _ on you,” Will snapped, “Or maybe you did something else to me. I wouldn’t know, and now I don’t know much of anything. My thinking has been shattered, and I’m doing my best to glue it all back together, but there are pieces missing.”

Will felt instant relief for being able to say that to someone, but he also felt dread at what it meant that he had said it.

Hannibal was silent, staring down at his tea. He couldn’t meet Will’s eyes. That was unusual.

“I know you didn’t do that, exactly,” Will said, making his tone more gentle, “You didn’t  _ mean _ to mess with me that way. You didn’t expect me to have so much of an influence on you as I did. We changed each other, and now we have to figure out who we are again.”

Hannibal looked up, his eyes shining with some emotion Will couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal said softly, “for giving me this chance. I do not know what I can earn back, but I am willing to try.”

Will chewed on his lip, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know either,” he admitted, “I don’t know if I came here to forgive you, or if it even matters anymore. I can’t  _ hate _ you, no matter how hard I try. I’m still damn angry with you, but I can’t keep hurting myself for it. I can’t let Myko hurt himself either.”

Hannibal closed his eyes and breathed deeply, looking as if he had to stop himself from rushing forward and pulling Will into a kiss. Will wondered how he would react if Hannibal  _ didn’t _ stop himself.

“I cannot rid myself of you,” Hannibal replied, “I have always been capable of simply removing others from my mind when I remove them from my life. You are one of two exceptions to this, and I cannot let you go.”

Will stepped forward, just a bit. He wasn’t sure why, or how he wanted Hannibal to perceive the gesture. He just did.

“We’ve changed each other,” he said, “I think you have those missing pieces of myself. They’re embedded into you, now, and I cannot be complete without you. You will feel as if you have something more than you can hold without me. It’s unbalanced, but hasn’t it always been? Isn’t that how you  _ designed _ it?”

Hannibal stepped forward as well, matching Will’s movement. They were not within arms reach of each other yet, but it would not take many more steps for them to be able to cling to each other once more.

“I never wanted that, Will,” Hannibal said, “I desired nothing but equality for us. I wanted you to know everything about me, as well as I hoped to know everything about you. I want us to walk side by side through the world, untouchable and unshakable. I never intended for this to happen.”

Will clenched his hands into fists by his sides, feeling an itch to reach out and curl them into the fabric of Hannibal’s suit. He didn’t want to be the one to surrender. He didn’t want to be weak. The ravenstag paced back and forth impatiently, causing a cacophony of sound that filled Will’s skull.

“Would you stop, if I asked you to?” Will asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

Hannibal stepped forward, now putting himself firmly in Will’s reach.  
“Would you ever ask me to?” he asked back, “would you ever say “if you love me, you’ll stop”? Would you deny me that part of myself?”

Will closed his eyes and took in a sharp breath.

He wasn’t prepared to answer that question. He didn’t  _ want _ to know the answer. He would never be able to consider himself a good man again if he allowed himself to answer that.

But he  _ wasn’t _ a good man. He knew that already.

“No,” Will confessed, feeling like a weight was being lifted off his chest when he said it, “never.”

It was a burden he had been carrying since he had seen the first Ripper kill. He would never ask the Ripper to stop. He would never ask Hannibal to stop. He didn’t want him to. Will wanted to be able to admire his work, no matter how grotesque and horrific it was. It was the one thing he had never admitted to  _ himself _ , and now he was admitting it to the man concerned.

Will opened his eyes, and Hannibal dropped down to his knees at Will’s feet. He bowed his head and placed his hands on his own thighs, as if in prayer.

Will stared down at the top of Hannibal’s head, reeling from everything that was happening. He felt as if he were looking down on the world with the eyes of God. No one had ever seen Hannibal like this. He knew it without having to be told. 

The Chesapeake Ripper was offering himself up to Will. A man Will had seen as nearer to a god than any other human, was now kneeling in supplication to him.

The ravenstag stood just behind Hannibal, watching Will with fire in its eyes.

A few tears dripped onto the backs of Hannibal’s hands, bringing Will back to reality. He shifted forward a bit and slid a hand into Hannibal’s hair in a gesture to offer comfort. Hannibal sighed as Will’s fingers threaded through his hair, and his shoulders slumped in relaxation. Will hadn’t known what he intended with the touch, but seeing Hannibal react to it like this caused a swell of emotion he couldn’t name or properly process within himself. 

Will had just accepted the Chesapeake Ripper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like that didn't take long, but I also feel like not much could happen at the place Will has been in recently. That's not to say that everything is peachy now, but I just needed to get these two back into the same room.  
> I hope you all enjoy this. <3


	25. 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myko gets some well-deserved rest and love in this chapter.

Myko looked at Will warily when he walked in after school. He also had dark circles under his eyes, and he looked paler than Will had ever seen him. Myko didn’t say anything to either Hannibal or Will, just walking past with his bag and going to his room in silence.

Hannibal sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in defeat. 

Hannibal looked to Will with a pleading expression, knowing he couldn’t do anything to help his son at the moment. He was asking Will to help him, to talk to Myko, to try to get him to forgive them both. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, even now.

Will pressed his lips together and nodded sharply. He turned and walked down the hall to the door of Myko’s room. He heard soft words being spoken on the other side, and knew Myko must have been talking to Ellie. 

Will took a deep breath before he knocked on the door softly.

There was a moment of silence before Myko answered.

“Come in,” he called quietly, sounding unsure.

Will opened the door and peeked into the room, seeing Myko sitting at the foot of his bed with Ellie in his lap. Will stepped through and closed the door softly behind him, still trying to figure out what he was going to say to the boy. He hadn’t ever expected to be in this kind of situation. 

“How are you?” he decided after a moment, sitting on the floor a few feet away from Myko.

Myko shrugged, not even sparing Will a glance. He just kept petting Ellie, who was content to enjoy the attention.

“I’m as well as can be expected,” he replied primly, sounding for all the world like a small count Lecter. What people expected him to be.

Will tipped his head, frowning a bit.

“I don’t think you’ve ever avoided talking to me before,” Will said, sighing and tipping his head back. He stared at the ceiling. “I thought we had agreed to try to be happy. Are you trying?”

Myko stopped petting Ellie, blinking in surprise. 

“I…”

Myko looked confused, as if he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep responding. He might not have planned on what to do in this kind of situation.

“My father says I should never break a promise,” Myko said at length, tapping his foot softly in a bit of nervousness, “and I do not want to make you unhappy.”

Will smiled softly and nodded.

“I have to admit it, Myko,” Will said, “I’m not all better yet. I’m not sure how long it is going to take for me to be really happy again.”

Myko looked up and frowned at Will, though he looked more tired than anything.

“Why did you come back if you are not happy?” Myko asked.

“I took some time to think, and I realized that I won’t be happy if I let myself keep being angry with your father,” Will said, “I’m not gonna be happy unless I try to fix it with you and him. Are you willing to work with me to fix it?”

Myko stared at Will for a moment. Will knew kids were attuned to the emotions and honesty of the adults in their lives, and he was willing to bet Myko was even more so. 

“I would like to be happy again,” Myko confessed softly, “what should we do?”

Will sighed in relief and smiled at Myko. That was the hard part done with, then. The rest would be a bit easier going forward, and Will was going to do everything he could to help Myko get to the other side of all this.

“I think we should start by having something to eat. I have a feeling neither of us have been eating well enough recently,” he said, standing up and offering Myko his hand.

Myko took Will’s hand and stood up before he attacked Will with a tight hug. 

Will huffed in surprise and smiled. He knelt and hugged Myko properly, feeling some of his own stress seeping out with the contact. Myko’s muscles relaxed, the boy’s head resting on Will’s shoulder.

Maybe Will could actually be a parent. 

Will had never had the desire to have a child, or to take care of someone until he met Myko. He didn’t know when the change in himself had happened, but he was sure there was no undoing it. He didn’t want to either. Myko was one of the few things in this life he could unabashedly care about and make a priority. 

“Let’s go back to your father and let him know that we’re really going to start trying. I think he’s been in a bad place too, recently. We all deserve a break,” Will said, standing up and looking Myko in the face.

Myko smiled for the first time that day, and nodded. His eyes weren’t shining the way they used to when he was happy, but Will hoped that could be fixed soon enough.

\---

“You both look to be feeling better,” Hannibal noted, his voice soft.

Will hummed quietly, his hand running over Myko’s arm as he slept, in a soothing touch. Myko had fallen asleep against Will on the couch once they had moved into the study after dinner. It seemed he really hadn’t been sleeping nearly as well as he needed, and the relaxation he felt with Hannibal and Will finally close to being on the same page afforded him the rest he needed.

“I think we both are,” Will agreed, “something really can be said for having company in misery, don’t you think?”

Hannibal didn’t reply right away, letting the silence stretch out a bit. Will looked over at him from his place on the couch, seeing that Hannibal was staring at the floor with a soft frown.

“Are you truly miserable, Will?” he asked, almost a whisper. 

Hannibal’s voice was strained with guilt and regret, and Will felt a pang of sympathy.

“Not anymore,” Will assured him, turning back to look at Myko leaning against him in sleep, “any burden can be carried when it’s shared, and now that I’m here with you both, we can all share whatever is worrying us. You and I are still going to have some serious conversations, but we can let him start getting over all of this.”

Hannibal nodded and stood up, moving over to the couch. When he bent down to pick up Myko, Will stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Let me put him to bed,” Will asked, meeting Hannibal’s eyes imploringly.

Hannibal hesitated for a moment, but straightened up with a soft nod.

“I think he would be pleased with that, Will,” Hannibal said, brushing a bit of hair from Myko’s face gently. 

Will smiled thankfully and scooped Myko up into his arms. The boy was old enough that he shouldn’t be carried regularly, but Will decided this was a unique circumstance, and he deserved a bit of special treatment. 

Myko stirred a bit as Will shifted him in his arms, but he only nestled more comfortably into his chest. Will smiled at him, feeling a warm glow of affection in his chest as he walked toward the boy’s room. Will set Myko down gently into his bed and slipped his shoes off. Will knew it was probably an unforgivable sin in Hannibal’s house, but he left Myko in his day clothes and pulled the blanket over him. 

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Myko,” Will said softly, brushing the boy’s hair away from his face, “and we’ll all get through this together.”

Myko looked so happy and relaxed in his sleep. Will almost wanted to just watch him sleep for a while, but he knew that wasn’t exactly acceptable. He straightened up and sighed quietly before he turned to leave. 

Hannibal was standing in the doorway to Myko’s room, watching him with an expression that reminded Will of simpler times.

Will walked right up and Hannibal moved aside to let him through. 

Once the door was closed, and Hannibal and Will were standing alone in the hall, Will looked up at the man.

“Do you have something to say, Doctor Lecter?” he asked quietly, aware of the sleeping child.

“Many things,” Hannibal replied, matching his tone, “they are at war behind my tongue, each wanting to be released first. I cannot decide what you deserve to hear first.”

Will hummed, turning and heading back toward the study.

“I’m not sure I deserve much of anything,” Will said as he walked, now anxious about what he was going to do now. He didn’t know how to act with Hannibal anymore.

Hannibal gently took Will’s arm and made him stop and turn to face him. Will didn’t meet his eyes, but he could feel Hannibal’s warm gaze.

“You deserve everything you desire, Will,” he said solemnly, “and from this moment forward I swear I will do what I can to give it to you.”

Will frowned and turned away, pulling his arm from Hannibal’s hand and continuing to the study. He felt his heart skip a beat, but he didn’t want to admit it. Hannibal was still so warm, despite the fact that Will knew the coldness that was in him. It wasn’t fair.

Once they were in the study, Hannibal having followed silently behind Will, Will poured himself some wine from the bottle Hannibal had set out. He didn’t bother to take a moment to appreciate the smell, or whatever Hannibal would do, before he downed half his glass. He wondered if he would be able to annoy Hannibal now, or if the man would just allow him to do whatever he wanted. 

Will walked to stand in front of the fireplace, not even glancing towards Hannibal when he poured his own wine. Will didn’t know where they were going to go from here. He didn’t know what the options were either.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Hannibal walked up silently and stood beside Will, so close they were almost brushing arms. He was letting Will decide if that boundary would be crossed again.

“What would you like for me to do, Will?” Hannibal asked.

Will pressed his lips together and stared into the fire. 

“It’s complicated,” Will replied, taking another drink of his wine.

Hannibal hummed softly, shifting just a bit on his feet.

“It does not have to be,” Hannibal said, his gaze warm on Will’s skin, “if you would like it to be simple, it may be. You can choose simplicity.”

Will finally looked up to meet Hannibal’s eyes. He stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out how he felt about everything. 

“I still love you,” Will said at length, turning back to look into the fire again, unable to hold Hannibal’s gaze as he spoke, “I know that. I want us to just be happy again. I want to go back to normal, where we were happy and comfortable with each other. I don’t like all this delicate stuff. I didn’t have to worry about being delicate before. It was so much easier.”

Will swayed a bit on his feet, his shoulder finally making contact with Hannibal’s and Hannibal reached out and took his hand. Will didn’t pull away. He didn’t want to.

“Let us start again,” Hannibal offered, “We may not be able to go back to how it was exactly, but I believe I can walk the path to your acceptance again. If I must do everything over again, I will.”

Hannibal lifted Will’s hand and pressed a kiss to it, a question in his eyes. He wanted to know if Will would allow him to start over. He wanted Will to let him try.

Will smiled sadly and stepped up to Hannibal. 

“I don’t think we’ll ever be back at the beginning, Doctor Lecter,” Will whispered, “but that’s just fine. You have a head start on past you.”

Will kissed Hannibal softly, knowing he was letting Hannibal back in officially. He was letting Hannibal into his life again. Into his heart and head. 

Hannibal returned the kiss, holding their intertwined hands up between their shoulders. At some point he had put down his glass of wine, allowing him to fish something from his pocket, which he slipped into the breast pocket of Will’s flannel, pressing his hand over it with reverence.

Pulling away a bit, Will sighed and closed his eyes, ducking his head slightly and smiling to himself.

“Don’t get yourself arrested, don’t kill anyone I work with, and don’t lie to me again,” Will said.

Hannibal took Will’s wine glass from him gently, setting it aside so he could pull Will into a tight hug. Will buried his face into Hannibal’s shoulder, breathing in deeply and recognizing how much he had missed this. The simplicity of being with Hannibal was something he didn’t ever want to lose again. He had missed the way Hannibal smelled, how warm he felt, how solid and real he was, and how his voice sounded. 

Will had missed everything about Hannibal, and he refused to lose it again.


	26. 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domesticity!

Will pulled the paper crane from his pocket and turned it over in his fingers. He smiled at it, feeling a warm glow of affection for the hands of its creator. 

Hannibal didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping the folding and gifting of the little origami creations now that Will had mostly forgiven him. Will wanted to feel guilty for not telling him to stop, because it was a bit ridiculous for him to keep going, but he felt a bit of jealous righteousness when he thought of the little flock of birds he was collecting. 

Will wouldn’t let Hannibal go again, and he wouldn’t let the man become idle either. Hannibal was still working to earn back what they had once had, and Will wasn’t going to let him feel too secure. 

Will got up out of bed, leaving Hannibal there as he walked down to the study. Hannibal was still asleep, probably overly exhausted from what they had all been through together. Will had woken up earlier than Hannibal because his mind didn’t let him fully relax in the man’s presence at this point. It was far better than being alone, but Will didn’t want to be vulnerable around Hannibal.

Will sat in the study, unsure why he hadn’t just stayed in bed. Even if he couldn’t sleep, he could have still laid there, comfortable and safe with Hannibal. 

Will felt cold, shivering at the slight chill in the morning air. He looked out the window and saw that there was a light dusting of snow over the ground outside. The light that shone out from the window glinted off delicate snowflakes as they fell gently to the ground to add to the layer already there. 

Will lit a fire in the hearth and curled up on the couch. He watched the snow and the fire in turns, slowly warming with the room. He watched as the sky began to lighten, and heard the first footsteps of Hannibal and Myko waking up.

Will walked into the kitchen and started making some hot chocolate, wanting to look like he had a reason for being awake already when the other two came down. Will didn’t feel the same hesitance to use Hannibal’s kitchen, now that he knew exactly what Hannibal had been using it for all this time.

Will turned with a smile when he heard Myko’s light steps skip down the stairs, and Myko barreled into him. Will huffed a laugh as Myko hugged him tightly, and Will returned the gesture.

“You really are here,” Myko said, grinning widely, “you didn’t lie to me.”

Will felt a pang of affection, and he remembered a similar situation with Hannibal.

“I don’t lie to people I care about,” Will said, echoing his words from what felt like so long ago, “I don’t like lies, and I won’t unless I have to. Do you want some hot chocolate?”

Myko nodded enthusiastically, letting go of Will’s waist to let him turn back to the stove. Myko hopped up into a chair and watched as Will finished making the early morning drink for them. They talked happily with each other, almost as if nothing had ever happened to tear them apart. Will slid a warm mug to the boy, curling his hands around his own to warm his chilled fingers. 

“Do you always get up earlier than your father?” Will asked, taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid, careful not to burn his tongue.

Myko shook his head.

“I almost never get to be in the house while he is asleep,” he said, “Father must be sleeping much more deeply than usual, for him to still be in bed.”

Will nodded, smiling to himself.

“Well, he’s up. Got up at about the same time as you. I’m not sure why he hasn’t come down to start on some fancy breakfast yet,” Will said, “He must just be taking a good long time crawling into one of those suits that cost the same as a house.”

Myko laughed and shrugged.

“I think he’s probably waiting for me to get you into a good mood so you won’t be mad at him,” the boy said looking at Will over his mug as he took a drink of his cocoa.

Will hummed in consideration.

That was probably true. Hannibal was going to be cautious with their new dynamic, working to not test the limits to their breaking point. Will felt a bit bad for it, knowing it would be stressful for them all, but he didn’t want Hannibal to feel like he could just do whatever he wished to do now that Will had returned.

“Well, the funny thing is that I was already in a good mood before you came down, though it has been infinitely improved with your presence,” Will said, grinning at the boy. 

Myko smiled back, and they were actually happy. It was strange to be happy again after so long.

“Good morning, Mangusteli,” Hannibal said, walking into the kitchen and smiling at Will. He then turned to Myko and nodded. “Mažylis.”

Myko smiled and slurped at his cocoa just to see Hannibal flinch slightly and raise an eyebrow at the behavior.

Will snorted a laugh at the man as Hannibal walked up to the stove and served himself some of the leftover cocoa.

“I don’t suppose you took it upon yourself to make something for breakfast as well,” Hannibal said, looking pointedly at Will.

Will shrugged.

“I felt like making hot cocoa was enough of an imposition on your pristine kitchen,” he said, “not to mention, you probably wouldn’t want to eat anything I could make.”

Hannibal hummed, turning and beginning to take out ingredients and tools to start cooking.

“If this hot chocolate is anything to go by, I think there is hope for your future in cooking after all,” Hannibal said with a slight smile in his voice.

Will huffed a laugh and shook his head. He didn’t bother responding, because he knew anything he said could be outdone by Hannibal. He just continued to talk with Myko as Hannibal prepared something for them all to eat. They ate in the kitchen, the morning feeling like something much more domestic and natural than anything before it. 

Will finally knew Hannibal completely, and he loved him more than ever.

\---

“You’re looking better.”

Will smiled at Beverly, genuinely glad to see her.

“I’m feeling about a hundred times better,” he agreed, “thanks for helping me figure out what I needed to do. I really do value your advice.”

Beverly grinned.

“I’m here for you whenever you need relationship advice,” she declared, “but I can’t help noticing you’re still not wearing the ring.”

Will rubbed his thumb over his ring finger, nodding absently.

“I gave it back to him when we had the argument,” he confessed, “and he hasn’t given it back yet. He’s probably worried I’ll say no.”

Beverly frowned sympathetically. 

“Well, would you?” she asked.

Will bit his lip and looked down at his desk. He had tried not to think about it too much, telling himself he didn’t need to worry until the time came. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Will said, “I think I’d still say yes if he asked again. I still love him, and I can’t imagine living without him. I guess it depends on the moment he asks me, though. There are definitely some circumstances where I would be too annoyed with him to say yes.”

Beverly chuckled softly.

“Well, sounds like you just need to convince him to ask again, in the right moment of course,” she said.

Will huffed a laugh and nodded.

“Yeah. I guess so. Does Jack have another case for me finally, or were you just coming by to see how I’m holding up?”

Beverly hummed.

“Well, Jack didn’t ask for you yet, but I bet he’s gonna as soon as he hears you’re alright. We’ve got some cases that you’d definitely be helpful with,” she said.

Will nodded. 

“Well, I’ll wait until he comes after me, then,” he said, “I’ve been sort of enjoying the break from all the death.”

Beverly pouted comically.

“Lucky you,” she said, pretending to be jealous, “the rest of us have been stuck with it all while Jack is annoyed that you’re gone.”

Will grinned.

“I regret nothing.”

\---

Will walked into Hannibal’s house after work, looking around. He knew Hannibal was home already, and Myko should be as well, but he didn’t see or hear them in the house. 

Will searched for a bit, calling for them and growing more curious the more rooms he found empty. 

Eventually, Will checked the backyard, guessing at least Myko and Ellie would be there. Will knew Myko liked to play there with the dog, and the boy would probably know where Hannibal was at least.

Once in the backyard, Ellie ran up and jumped at his knees, yipping happily. Will smiled and bent down to pet her a bit. She spun in a quick circle before taking off into the yard, and Will followed her. He idly noticed that Hannibal had fenced in the garden, probably to keep Ellie from digging up or eating the plants. Will smiled absently at the thought, wanting to laugh at the thought of Hannibal staring at an uprooted plant as Ellie grinned up at him with dirt on her paws.

Will stopped dead in his tracks when he saw where Ellie was running to.

There was a big kennel on the edge of the yard. Will didn’t know when or why Hannibal had had it built, but he couldn’t help but stare. It was amazing. It was so nice, and big enough for all of his dogs, even the ones he said he wouldn’t keep. 

“Surprise!”

Will turned and was once again tackled by Myko as the boy darted out from around the side of the house. Will laughed, unable to stop it. Hannibal was following his son, smiling widely as he came toward Will and Myko.

“Father said he wants you to bring all the dogs, because they make you happy!” Myko said, hopping with excitement.

Will was at a loss for words, and he just looked to Hannibal who nodded.

“I’m certain even Buster and I can come to a compromise,” Hannibal said, “There is very little I would not do for you, it seems.”

Will broke free from Myko’s hug and kissed Hannibal. Will felt Hannibal smile against him and pull him closer, humming pleasantly.

“You’re such a sweet cannibal,” Will mused, grinning at Hannibal and feeling like a child with how happy he was.

Hannibal laughed softly.

“What a compliment, Mangusteli,” he said, “I take it you are pleased with it?”

Will laughed and shook his head at the man.

“Of course I’m pleased with it, Hannibal,” Will said, “I’m gonna get my dogs right now.”

Will started to turn to head back through the house, but Hannibal grabbed him and pulled him back, huffing an amused laugh. Hannibal pulled him into another kiss.

“Take Mykolas with you,” Hannibal said softly, “I rather think you would both enjoy it. He has been desperate to see the dogs again, and nearly couldn’t keep this secret until now for it.”

Will grinned even wider and turned to Myko.

“Wanna go get the pack?” he asked.

Myko jumped into the air, pumping his fist with excitement.

“Yes!” he said, “I love your house!”

Myko took off to the house, leaving Hannibal and Will to follow him, laughing and smiling. Once inside, Hannibal pressed a paper crane into Will’s hand and kissed him once more.

“Drive safely,” Hannibal whispered, finally letting Will go as Will headed to the front door to catch up to Myko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit shorter than usual, but I have an explanation.
> 
> Uh... I might be wrapping this fic up? Like, if we're lucky, we'll get to 30 chapters. I'm not sure if we will, though.   
> I hope you've been enjoying it! We have at least two more chapters to go before the end.   
> Thank you for reading <3


	27. 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much drama. Very angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you all have every reason to hate me. I have left this fic for so long. I'm really sorry about that. I do have some good news, though.  
> I'll definitely be writing to at least chapter 30 before it's fully wrapped up.  
> Also, next chapter is going to be from Myko's POV, as a treat. I have been waiting for just the right moment, and this is it, evidently.

Music filled the car as they drove, and a soft snow was falling down from the sky. Myko was humming along to the music as he watched out the window, and Will smiled as he felt his chest fill with contentment. 

Will didn’t often let himself feel complete and happy, but he thought he might just be able to allow it now. Hannibal and Myko were people that made him feel like his life was full. He didn’t have to go home to an empty house and wake up cold. He didn’t have to wonder nearly half as much as he did before they came into his life. Now, he felt warm and complete with them, and even his dogs were going to be able to stay. 

But feeling good was something Will never got to get used to. Not once in his life. 

The tires hit a patch of ice, and Will lost control of the car. They spun for a moment before hitting a tree and coming to an abrupt halt. 

Will was dazed, and had to wait a few minutes and blink several times before he could think properly again.

The airbags hadn’t deployed, which was good. Myko was in the front seat, and they could have been dangerous for him. 

Myko was staring through the windshield with a shocked expression, and hadn’t moved or said a word. That was a concern.

“Myko,” Will said, making the boy start and turn to him with glassy eyes, “I’m gonna call your father, but I want you to stay in here while I check out the damage. There’s a few blankets in the backseat. Bundle up before you get cold, so hopefully you won’t.”

Myko nodded, but he wasn’t blinking or emoting. Will sighed, worried about him, but nodded sharply and pulled the keys from the ignition before he stepped out of the car.

“Will?” Hannibal said, “Is something wrong?”

Will sighed, prying the hood up to check the damage to the engine.

“Well, the car decided to have a fight with a tree,” Will said, leaning over to get a better look inside, “and the tree won. We’re both fine, but we’re stuck for the moment. I’m working on seeing if there’s anything I can do for the car. I’ll call you again in five minutes, and I’ll let you know what the plan is. Don’t worry too much, ‘cause I can fix just about anything. I’m just glad I have service from here so I could call you.”

“Will,” Hannibal said, sounding tense and worried, “should I come find you? The weather seems to be turning for the worst, and I can’t abide the thought of you being stranded in it.”

Will smiled, but shook his head to himself.

“No,” he said, “When I call back, we can discuss the plan. If I don’t call, then you can worry a bit, but for now just hold tight and let me figure this out.”

Hannibal sighed, clearly frustrated and feeling as though he could do nothing. Will understood that, but he also didn’t want Hannibal to come all the way out here just to also get stuck or careen off the road. That wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“Very well, Will,” Hannibal said, “five minutes. No longer.”

Will huffed a laugh, watching the small cloud it formed in front of his face.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, “love you.”

“I love you too, Mangusteli,” Hannibal said, “Five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” Will agreed, and ended the call. 

As Will looked at their situation, he came to the understanding that there was less a problem with the car itself, and more a problem with its placement. There was too much snow around the tires, and he wouldn’t be able to pull out away from the tree line and back onto the road. All he would manage was to dig the tires deeper into the snow and ground, getting them even more stuck.

With a sigh, Will turned to get back into the car to be a bit warmer as he called Hannibal. He only had one minute left before Hannibal would begin to worry.

There were three men standing by the back of Will’s car, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw them. They didn’t call out to him, or seem to be moving to help him dig the car out, so he was instantly wary of them. 

“Can I help you?” Will called, crossing his arms and planting his feet on the ground. He didn’t play prey anymore. Only predator.

“Our boss wants to meet you,” one of the men replied, an accent that Will couldn’t quite place tainting the words, “We came to collect you.”

Will huffed and shook his head.

“Tell your boss to book an appointment next time,” he answered, “I don’t have time for him right now, and in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m in a bit of a tight spot. If you’re not here to help, you’d best be on your way.”

Will took a few more steps to the car door, glancing in to see that Myko was bundled up and alright. His movements were matched by one of the men, who was nearly an arm’s reach from him now.

“I don’t think you understand, Mister Graham,” the man said gruffly, “we have come to collect you. That means I’m bringing you to my boss one of two ways.”

Will frowned, staring the man down angrily.

“Let me guess. The hard way or the easy way?” Will snapped, really starting to be irritated by these men.

The man shrugged, but he smiled through his patchy beard.

“Clever man. The boss will like you,” he said.

Will had to think quickly, knowing he was one wrong move away from being grabbed and dragged wherever these men were going.

“Can I let my partner know where I’m going?” he asked, “he’ll worry if I don’t call back.”

The man lunged forward and grabbed Will’s arms at the elbows. He wasn’t smiling anymore, and he was stronger than Will would have expected.

“No,” was the only answer Will got before he was being dragged away from the car. 

Will looked up and caught Myko’s eye before losing sight of him, and saw the frantic, fearful expression on the boy’s face.

Will couldn’t pull his gun, for fear of a struggle causing a misfiring while Myko was around. He knew this, and he fought and kicked as well as he could against his captors. He couldn’t let Myko be left there. He couldn’t abandon him. 

“Will!” Myko screamed, being yanked from the car by another one of the men. He was still wrapped in the blanket, getting in the way of his attempts to struggle and fight.

“Leave him alone!” Will shouted, kicking harder and straining against the strong arms that held him, “If you hurt him, I promise you will all die, whether I live to see it or not.”

The man holding him struck a quick blow to Will’s temple, making his vision scatter and his thoughts stutter. Will felt his body go limp as a headache bloomed to full force in his skull from the impact.

“We’re not gonna leave the kid here to tell where you’re going,” one of the men said, “but he doesn’t have to get hurt. You get to decide what happens from here.”

Will sagged a bit more, feeling a slow trickle of blood run down the side of his face as he was dragged further through the snow and to the side of a dark car.

“Okay. Don’t hurt him. I’ll do what you want,” Will said, his voice low and dangerous.

These men were all going to die. Will didn’t care who did it, but he knew they wouldn’t survive this. He wanted them to suffer for this.

“Good,” the man said, clipping some handcuffs to Will’s wrists and tossing him into the back seat of the car, “I’m glad we’re all on the same page.”

Will grit his teeth as Myko was gagged and tied up before being shoved into the seat next to him. Will could see a few stray tears falling from the boy’s eyes, but Myko was putting on a stoic air as the car started and pulled away.

“Don’t worry, Myko,” Will whispered as they drove, “I’ll get us out of this, or your father will. Whichever one it ends up being, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Myko nodded, but the fear in his eyes remained. He had been kidnapped once before, but Will knew the circumstances were wildly different. The first time, he had the security of knowing he wasn’t truly in danger, and there had only been one attacker. This time, they knew very little, including the number of assailants and the purpose of the abduction. 

To add to all that, Myko had just witnessed an adult in his life being subdued and injured by these men. He was going to be frightened until this was long over. 

Will continued to say anything he could to Myko to help him be brave and less frightened, all the way until the car pulled to a stop and they were pulled out of the car in front of the largest house Will had ever seen. 

Verger Estate, it said above the front door.

Well, it was about to become Hell if Will had anything to say about it. Anyone responsible for this would wish they had never set eyes on Will or Myko by the time this was over.

“Tell Mister Verger we have him,” one of the men told another man who was waiting near the door as Will was pulled up the stairs.

The man walked briskly away, and Will took in their surroundings as well as he could past his blurry thoughts. He probably had a concussion.

The entryway was probably bigger than his own house, the ceilings vaulting high and a grand staircase leading to either wing of the giant house. Everything seemed to be furnished just so it would display the wealth of the owners of the property. There were hunting trophies on the walls, and large vases full of decorative spears scattered around the perimeter. The entire building seemed to be empty, for the silence that seemed to crowd in on the small party.

After what felt like an eternity, during which Will sent chilling glares to every captor he could see, a man finally walked into the room with a wide smile on his face.

“Well, if it isn’t Will Graham,” the man drawled, as if he was being introduced to someone at a party, “just the man I wanted to see.”

“Evidently,” Will snarked, “since you couldn’t just give me a call, or send a note like the pretentious bastard you seem to be.”

The man’s smile didn’t waver, and he huffed a soft laugh. He motioned to one of the men, and Will’s cuffs were removed. He was flanked by two men still, clearly not being invited to escape.

“Now, Mister Graham. We haven’t even been introduced yet,” he chided, “I’m Mason. I have some business to discuss with you.”

Mason started to walk away, and Will was shoved forward to follow him. Will glanced back to make sure Myko was following, because he refused to let the boy out of his immediate vicinity. One of the men was pulling the boy by his arm, but at least Myko was coming with.

“Unless your business has to do with catching serial killers, I don’t think I’ll be much help, Mason,” Will snapped back, “and abduction isn’t really the best beginning to a business relationship, typically.”

Mason laughed, seeming amused by Will’s snide replies.

“As it happens, this has to do with your boyfriend,” Mason said happily, “Doctor Hannibal Lecter.”

Ah. So it might have something to do with catching serial killers. But Will wasn’t going to pretend that made anything better.

“When does anything ever not?” Will said frustratedly, “he thinks the world revolves around him, and apparently it does! Can’t anyone just get over him?”

Mason laughed again reaching out and pinching Will’s ear gently. Will felt his skin crawl, and he wanted to bite off his fingers, but he knew it wasn’t the right time yet.

“I like you, Will,” Mason decided, “So I’m going to let you in on everything.”

Will didn’t really care if Mason liked him at all, but he supposed he could at least get some information out of him. As long as he could keep himself from tearing his throat out before he was finished talking.

“Doctor Lecter has been seeing my sister for quite a few years,” Mason said, still strolling casually through the halls of the mansion, likely to confuse Will about their location, “and I’ve recently started to notice that he might be telling her some things that are, hmm, shall we say, counterproductive. She has the crazy idea that she should have an heir, so she might usurp me as such. Does that sound like something your boyfriend might do?”

Will wanted to pull this man’s skin off and listen to him scream, but he schooled his expression and shrugged.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Will replied, “but that really depends on what kind of person you are. He wouldn’t do that to just anyone, Mason. He must really dislike you if he’d let anyone mess with your malicious plots.”

Mason hummed in mock thought, scratching his chin for good measure. 

“Well, I’ve certainly never done anything to him,” Mason said, “but I suppose Margot can come up with some wild things to tell her therapist to get her way.”

Will didn’t reply, knowing very well that wouldn’t be the truth. He couldn’t really trust Mason about anything.

“Ah!” Mason said, suddenly turning on his heel and fixing his eyes on Myko, “I nearly forgot. Who do we have here?”

Will felt his blood freeze in his veins. He could see the ideas that ran through Mason’s mind as he looked at the boy. 

“Lay a finger on that boy, and I promise you will lose it,” Will said frankly.

Mason tipped his head and looked back up to Will, though he seemed more curious than frightened.

“Lose my finger?” he asked with a grin, “I hardly think so. Who is this boy to you, anyway? Why did he end up coming in with you?”

“He’s my nephew,” Will lied smoothly, knowing that revealing that Myko was related to Hannibal in anyway would be a mistake, “I was going to watch him for a few days while my sister is out of town.”

Mason raised an eyebrow, clearly not fully buying the lie, but he shrugged it off. He took a step closer to Myko. Will wanted to tear the man’s heart out of his chest with his bare hands as he watched the way he prowled toward the boy.

Mason waved to one of the men and the gag was removed from Myko’s mouth. Myko had the sense not to scream, licking his lips silently as he stared down the threat before him.

“And what might your name be,” Mason cooed, making Will grit his teeth.

“Matthew,” Myko replied, not missing a beat, “Matthew Brown.”

Will felt a swell of pride at that. Myko was clever, and able to keep his cool even when in the face of so much danger. 

Mason seemed a bit disappointed by that, perhaps hoping to catch Will’s lie by having Myko reveal his real name. Will knew there weren’t likely to be many boys named Mykolas in the Baltimore area. 

“Alright, Matty,” Mason said, “do you like chocolate?”

Will felt his hands tighten into fists, and he saw Mason moving in to the point where he was far too close to Myko. Mason would die. Will was as certain of that as he was of anything. There was no other side of this for Mason.

“Only when father makes it,” Myko replied confidently.

Mason was stopped in his tracks at that. Will supposed he hadn’t had many little boys stand up to him or refuse the treat. He was used to getting what he wanted easily, even though he should be in prison or dead several times over for it. Will wished the world hadn’t allowed people like Mason to get this far. The systems that be were so corrupt they basically incentivized this sort of person to develop, as long as they could pay to have everyone turn a blind eye.

But Will was not someone who could be paid off. He wasn’t blind anymore, and he was determined to never be so again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry for the long wait. Thank you for being patient with me.  
> (I wrote this entire chapter in about thirty minutes, so it might be a bit rough XD)  
> <3 <3 <3


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